


A Cavalry Of Stone

by Chngminxo



Series: Tales from Huingol [4]
Category: B.A.P
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst, Drama, Huingol series comes to an end, M/M, Violence, all that good stuff, explicit content, mature themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2018-11-05 02:17:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 63,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11003913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chngminxo/pseuds/Chngminxo
Summary: In Summer the Horse King and his Prince journey south, but in the wake of treason who can they trust?





	1. Chapter 1

_Light flickered behind Junhong's eyelids, but he wasn't dreaming. Faint shapes of gold and red danced across a black sky as his mind toed at the edge of consciousness, neither asleep nor awake. The soft touch of a thin blanket was wrapped around his naked shoulders, but his back was pressed to something hard, something that scratched at his skin like claws that dug at him and irritated the already injured flesh. It was past dawn by then, he knew, but outside was cold and he didn't want to wake up. He never wanted to wake up._

 

“ _Junhong-ah...” A warm voice called, sing-songing the greeting. He closed his eyes tighter, pressed his cheek into the scratchy carpet, curled his fingers into the hem of the blanket that didn't quite cover his body. The collar around his neck was digging into his throat, he held his breath, “Junhong-ah, morning has come. Wake up, sweet boy.” The voice, a woman's, was coming closer._

 

_Stout fingers brushed through black hair, then rubbed a touch of grime from the curve of his ear. Some mornings he imagined it was his mother, coming to wake him up from where he had fallen asleep in front of their fire, all soothing words and loving touches. Behind his eyelids, he would see her smile, feel her lips when they pressed to his forehead. He hadn't managed to believe it yet, but he hoped one day he would._

 

“ _I know you're awake.” The woman said again and she pulled away from him. He listened to the sound of her feet moving around the room, and of her tidying sheets on the luxurious bed not far from where he lay. Wind whistled between bricks laid long before and the shutters banged against the window frame, and Junhong opened his eyes. The fire in the hearth had burnt out long before, now only the last embers glowed there and he pushed himself to sit, bringing the blanket tighter around his shoulders._

 

“ _Did you sleep well?” The woman greeted him with a warm smile._

 

“ _Yes, madame.” Junhong replied, as he did every morning. It didn't matter whether it was the truth if it was the answer she wanted._

 

_Her hands tugged at the thin blanket from around his shoulders and her fingers brushed through his hair again to flatten out the billowing strands, to make him look more presentable. “My oh my you get so grimy sleeping on the floor.” His Madame scolded him, as though he were to have any say in the matter. It was how things were every night, and as they had been for three years. He would sleep on the floor, curled before the fire like a dog unless his master were to take pity on him, then he would be woken up and fed, washed and displayed like a prize on the great hall floor. Fair skin and red lips and a tongue not used for talking._

 

_Bare feet were cold on grey stone but he followed obediently. From the bedchamber it was a left, then a right, then left again and down a long corridor until he was standing before the open doors of the wide hall. The night before tables had been brought from storage rooms and formed together to make a line to harbour the feast prepared in celebration of their Northern visitors. Junhong hadn't been clear on who they were, but his master had him play his Gayageum late into the night, and dance when the festivities were at their peak. He had noticed the way one man, a general who's hair greyed at its tips, had watched his body move, but not a word had been sent to him directly. Instead the Silver General offered accented praise to his master, owner, Lord. Captor._

 

“ _Madame Seoyoung.” A man's voice called, he sounded out of breath and Junhong stopped as his Madame did. Cha Seoyoung's palms pressed together and she quirked an eyebrow in expectation, waiting for the servant boy to continue. Junhong knew that most in the compound were intimidated by her with her stern exterior and age-strengthened air, but she had been the first in the city to show him kindness, and take pity on his aching heart. It was often her who rubbed ointments into his broken skin after their lord took out his aggression and jealousy on his young body, she gave him tonics when sick and snuck him extra treats when she knew no one else was watching. Yet still the servant boy trembled before her, “The guests from the North, Madame. They are speaking with his Lordship and he told me to give you this.”_

 

_Parchment was drawn from his sleeve, given to their Madame. Junhong glanced at the page over her shoulder, over the rounded circles and striking lines hand painted across paper and he didn't understand, not even as Cha Seoyoung scrunched it into her palm, nor as she waved with one hand to the few guards that littered the hallway._

 

“ _Take Junhong to his place in the hall.” She commanded the trembling servant boy. Junhong knew his back was still healing from the last time their master had punished him, he had watched it happen. A part of him had wished he could stop it as he heard the screams of agony echoing down the halls, another had been thanking the Gods that it was not him that time at Lord Kang's mercy._

 

_Fingers curled around Junhong's upper arm and as Seoyoung scurried off, guards in tow, he was lead to his place by Lord Kang's throne and forced down onto his knees. A chain, attached to the wall, was clipped into his collar and there he was left to watch the morning light where it peeked through the windows. Some days he could see birds swooping through the sky, but that day the world was grey, dull, and winter was coming._

 

_He couldn't be sure how long he had been sitting there when the first crash came. Voices called and metal met and he lifted his hands to cover his ears. He didn't want to hear the screaming, he didn't want to smell the smoke. He didn't want to do this again._

 

_Within the hour, the city was taken and it was the Silver General who found him curled up on the floor. His chains were pulled from brick and he was dragged out with the others onto the streets to where a cavalry of horses stood saddled and waiting to ride out. His eyes squinted against the light and Autumn air brushed over his naked skin, it was the first time he had left the compound in three years._

 

“ _Ride out!” Called the Silver General as he mounted his chestnut stallion, and Junhong was pulled forward by the chain around his neck._

 

“ _Where are we going?” He asked, his voice faint from disuse. With a glance over his shoulder, he saw a flag he did not recognise hanging from the building's open windows, a gold horse standing on a bed of red flowers against a white background._

 

_The Silver General laughed but he didn't look back, “We're going to the Valley, boy. We're going to the King.”_

 

*

 

A bird called from overhead and Junhong looked up. It was nothing more than a silhouette against the glowing blue sky, but still he smiled. He knew that sound better than anything, from a childhood by the sea, and with the seagull calling its song, Junhong knew he was almost home.

 

Yeona snorted as she tipped her head and flicked her tail. He smiled and rubbed a hand along the side of her neck as together they climbed to the peak of a rolling hill, hoping to spy the first glance of ocean blue. The scent of salt was familiar on the wind and carefully, Junhong leant forward, planting soft kisses just below Yeona's ears, whispering soft words of gratitude and love for the carrying of his weight over the past weeks of their travels.

 

It had been early summer when the King left Huingol to travel south. Word spread across the peninsula like wild fire of his coming visits, and his desire to see the Kingdom that was his to lead. When his father had died four summers before, uncertainty had surrounded the ascension of the young Prince to Huingol's powerful throne. Some believed him ill fitting for the role, others saw him still as little more than a boy, but the early years of his reign saw the peninsula prospering under his benevolence and gentle hand.

 

If Junhong had not known Yongguk was beloved, he would realise it when they set foot in their first city. The King rode astride a copper stallion through the gates of Pureungang, welcomed by crowds of people cheering his name, waving ribbons and throwing flowers to his feet. Junhong had watched as elderly women blessed him with their hands, while townspeople dropped to their knees before him as though his seat upon the peninsula was as divine as the Gods above their heads. That night he had feasted with the people, learned their names and their faces, sat in silence while they told him their stories. A farmer's wife claimed that on the morning of his birth, twin foals had been born to her favoured mare, a town worker described her memory of the day his father and mother had visited with Yejin as a babe.

 

Sometime after sunset on the first evening, Junhong had fallen asleep in the warmth of Yongguk's hold, all while revelry bloomed around them. Warm fingers traced a rhythm through his hair, and the last he remembered, there was a man kneeling before them. He was old, a retired blacksmith, recounting memories of a boyhood long before, when Yongguk's grandfather had travelled to his city to visit, and how he had never seen celebrations so lavish until that very day. Yongguk had smiled, touched his palm to the elderly man's crown but Junhong didn't know what had happened then. Next he remembered he was curled up warm, safe and naked in his King's arms and bathed in the golden light of dawn.

 

Yeona groaned again and Junhong smiled, straightened up, looked ahead. Between the rolling hills he could just see the hazy horizon, “It's okay, Yeona.” He hummed again, scratching just behind her ear, “We'll stop soon.”

 

“Junhong-ah!” Yongguk called from behind him, and Junhong turned his head. The procession was strung along the road at the base of the hill, guards and clerics, and anyone else they may need for their travels, with the King leading the front, “Don't go too far ahead!”

 

Even with his dagger strapped at his hip, Junhong was not such a fool as to stray too far alone. Bears and wolves both resided in these woods, as did bandits, he was sure. With a gentle tug to Yeona's reigns, Junhong lead her back down the way they had come, “I'm sorry, Hyung.” He smiled. A bodyguard slipped from his position at Yongguk's right to instead make room for Junhong beside their King, and Yeona soon fell into step beside his copper stallion.

 

“No need to apologise.” Yongguk shook his head. His hand was settled comfortably on his thigh as their mount's rocked beneath them at a walking pace.

 

In the planning of their travels, Yongguk had chosen only his most trusted and favoured to journey alongside them. First he chose his bodyguard, and the dear friend to both of them, Daehyun to ride at his left, donned in a uniform of black and with a sword strapped to his side. With Jongup still healing, neither he nor Himchan were prepared to leave Huingol, and so in their stead a selection of Huingol's best rode with the King, lead by Moon Jonghwan. A selection of clerics were chosen too, among them Youngjae who had taken position as Junhong's tutor and man servant after his previous master had met death. The many faces around him had gone from foreign to familiar, and Junhong found comfort in the companionship.

 

“Your majesty.” Jonghwan's horse picked up pace to sidle up beside Daehyun.

 

Daehyun glanced to him, expression serious, “What is it, Jonghwan?” He asked. It was interesting to Junhong, how serious the southerner had become since abandoning his role as Palace spy. No longer was he the playful friend who joked with Junhong in the snow, instead his brows were furrowed, his lips pressed together in a thin line, as there was nothing more serious to Jung Daehyun as keeping their King safe.

 

That is not to say all softness left him, however. Not a day had gone by when Daehyun appeared to Junhong anything less than a friend, and someone he could trust with his most dearly kept secrets. Still, he could laugh with Yongguk and Himchan over memories of a childhood past, with Jongup over palace rumours, but it was the rare times that Junhong saw him alone with Youngjae that his true nature was shown. Something about him always glowed brighter in those moments, when fingers touched skin and loving words filtered like particles of gold dust between lips and ears. Only once had Junhong ever seen them kiss, and in that moment he could have sworn Daehyun was the sun.

 

“Nightfall is approaching.” The second Moon brother said, “There is a clearing not far ahead, a little off the road and behind the trees. We have enough time before dark to set camp.”

 

“Very well.” Yongguk nodded once, and Jonghwan bowed his head. The soldier peeled away from their sides and fell back between soldiers to the servants that trailed behind. Strong horses dragged carts of wood and canvas, others food and drink and anything else the procession may need on their travels across the peninsula. From behind them, a group of young soldiers broke away from their rank and urged their horses faster to lead a group of servants ahead of them to prepare the campsite for the King's arrival.

 

In the south, that Summer had not reached the same temperatures as it had in the north, but the days were still long and the sun relentless as it beat down on their backs. Junhong could feel the sweat on his skin beneath the cotton travelling robes that donned his body, and it felt like far too long since he was able to properly bathe anywhere other than flowing rivers and gurgling streams, always under the watchful eye of Daehyun or Jonghwan, or anyone else Yongguk trusted enough. It would not be until after nightfall in two days that they were expected to reach their next city, but he was sure all were eager for all it would bring, the food, the beds, the women with whom the soldiers would indulge themselves. Whenever they had passed through cities before, many would come out with excitement to see the visiting knights, Huingol's favoured sons. Some of the soldiers spoke in the evenings of those they left in the Valley, while others boiled with excitement at the prospect of finding a Southern love and sometimes Junhong listened to them. He always stood off to the side concealed behind the heavy draping that acted as tent doors, knowing they would not speak so candidly in front of him, but he could hear their voices clearly.

 

One soldier mentioned his young wife and their infant daughter far away behind Huingol's golden walls. She had been his sweetheart from their youth and had grown up in the home beside his, a distance from which they watched one another go from childhood to adulthood and somewhere in between they had fallen in love. They married in the Spring, once he had completed his training, and by winter their baby had been born, rosy cheeked and raven haired. It was the younger ones mostly who spoke more frivolously. Junhong guessed some of them had never even left the Valley before Jonghwan named them as his chosen favourites, and now they were excited to see all kinds of beauty the world could hold.

 

“They say southern women truly know how to please a man.” One said, his voice conspiratorial. The camp had been built as swiftly as ever, and soon the soldiers had settled around the crackling fire, picking at what remained of the preserved meat and grain gifted to them in their last city.

 

“What do you know of being pleased, I doubt a woman has ever so much as spared you an eye!” Another said and the crowd erupted in laughter, hands clapping at backs, elbows shoving.

 

“I doubt Han knows any more about women than he does about the south.” Came a third with a mouthful of meat.

 

The first soldier, Han, huffed and shook his head, “You'd have heard it as good as I!” He said, “It's always been said, southerners make better lovers, not as stitched up like those Northern snots. The King himself took a Southerner to bed, did he not?”

 

“That is hardly a comment on all Southerners.” The gruff tone of an archer, Song was his name, came across the fire.

 

“A King doesn't take a used peasant as his consort for their brains, Song.” Han laughed, “You'd have to think he was good enough at _something_ to have him so treasur- _Ouch_!”

 

“Hush.” Song said, sailing a hard kick into the boy's shin to silence him. Junhong could see Han wince from where he stood across the clearing, “If Moon or Jung hear you talking like that of His Highness it'll see your head on the block, and I don't want mine there, too.”

 

“The only place he wants his head is between some Southern thighs!” Another chimed in and again the campfire erupted in laughter. They moved on, forgetting all that had been said to cover new things, joking and playing until one soldier made an untimely quip about another's sister and a playful bout of wrestling broke out in the dirt, egged on by the others. It was a kind of camaraderie Junhong himself had never experienced, a brotherhood that remained foreign. In the palace, surrounded by Lords and Clerics he was set apart from others born of peasantry, his blood given new worth by the silks that clothed him and the seat he took at their King's right hand side. The closest friends he had were in Jongup, the Master General's lover, Daehyun, the King's bodyguard, Youngjae, his own tutor, and he did not take a single one of them for granted, nor would he claim not to love each one dearly in their own right, but he knew that none of those relationships were accidental. By taking his place by the King, he was no longer a peasant boy from the south, he was a Prince.

 

He was not so naïve to think no one talked about him, though. Not even Yongguk was spared of rumour. Sometimes the soldiers would stop speaking as he passed them by, or Daehyun would fix servants with glares when he thought Junhong could not see. It was nothing new, however. Whatever rumours passed between mouth and ear had began the moment Yongguk did not turn him away at the beginning of winter.

 

“If we continue southward, we should make it to the river by afternoon tomorrow.” Jonghwan spoke and Junhong turned his head. Drawn out behind him was a long table set up under the tent's canvas canopy, a makeshift study and shelter for their King. Candles were set up along the length of it, their bronze holders weighing down a broad map hand painted on well worn parchment that was surrounded by concentrating men. Plates of food had been left forgotten as Daehyun and Jonghwan both peered down, tracing lines of roads and rivers with the tips of their fingers, brows creased in studious concentration.

 

Yongguk was seated to the side, his lips pursed in thought as he too poured over the map he had long since memorised, “If we continue south, the river will meet the sea before it can be crossed.” The King pointed out, and Junhong stepped away from the open door.

 

“If we go North we can cross the river at Jeokshipja.” Youngjae suggested as he too stepped closer. The tip of his index finger traced over a road marked in green ink to where a small town had been built marking the bridge built of red stone, from where the crossing had earned its name.

 

“Continuing North would only draw the journey out.” Daehyun disagreed with a shake of his head, “If we do that we will not cross the mountains until the day after tomorrow, and we wouldn't arrive in the city its self for another day beyond that.”

 

Junhong's hand curved around the back of Yongguk's chair and a familiar palm pressed to the small of his back. The young Prince furrowed his own brows as he gazed down towards the parchment, tilting his head in thought when Jonghwan said, “Either way, travelling to Jeokshipja would add no more time than travelling all the way to the sea.”

 

“There is another crossing.” Junhong said, his hand outstretched to point at a gap between two illustrated mountains, where the river bent, “Here.” He could feel the warmth of Yongguk's gaze watching him, though the King remained quiet as he listened to his treasure speak, “During Spring the river is too deep after the snow melts on the mountain peaks and joins the flow here-” He pointed further upstream, “The flooding spreads out the river, widening its body and creating smaller streams. When the snow has all gone, the water thins and gets shallower but remains just as spread out. Instead of one body, the river is shallowed and split into three that meet again further south. By now it should be easy to cross, even with the carts.”

 

“And you are sure about this?” Jonghwan asked, and Junhong glanced up towards him.

 

“I am certain.” He said and his fingers relaxed against the parchment, dragging slowly over the smooth grain. It came to a natural stop over a small dot, an intentional mark made of black ink. No name was given to the small village, but Junhong guessed it didn't need one. It didn't exist anymore.

 

“Then that is the route we shall take.” Yongguk said, his tone final, “We shall make it to the city in good time.”

 

Junhong drew his eyes from the map and turned them upon his King. His skin had bronzed in the summer warmth that bathed their journey, but something about him had softened, as though he had grown more at home in his own skin now that he was free of the Valley's confines.

 

At the end of their first week away from home they'd awoken in that very tent, somewhere in a forest south of the golden city. Yongguk had drawn himself from bed, much to Junhong's protest and stood almost bare at the tents opening. A deer had wondered into their camp in the sun's waking light and grazed on the dew-glossed grass. The early morning glow gave promise for the coming heat, and together they watched the young doe taking in her fill, preparing herself for a day lounging in the shade to escape the sun's oppression.

 

“ _You know..._ ” Yongguk began, without glancing back over his shoulder, “ _The Kwon's were right, in some ways. I have not been the greatest King._ ”

 

Junhong gazed towards him, from where his head touched the soft linen pillow. He traced the lines of muscle defined on Yongguk's back, the arch of his spine down to the white pants he had pulled on once he was out of the bed. It was strange to him, that something so beautiful should be saved only for his eyes.

 

“ _They were wrong about far more._ ” The younger replied. Finally, Yongguk turned towards him, eyes soft.

 

“ _Surrounded by stone walls, hidden in the Valley. Maybe I ruled Huingol well, maybe I was kind to servants, generous with Generals, loving with you, but striking markings on a map is not ruling. Nor is pressing my seal on parchment, sending messages of well-wishes._ ” His right hand extended and he gestured to the forest around them, “This _is what it means to be a King. And finally I feel like one._ ”

 

Naked feet pressed to an earth floor and Junhong gathered their sheets around himself. His footsteps were silent as he slipped up behind his Lord and pressed a line of tender kisses across his shoulder, “ _You've always felt like one to me._ ”

 

“It's decided then.” Jonghwan said and Junhong blinked, glancing across the table towards the Commander as his calloused fingers rolled the scroll up and slotted it safely again into its leather casing, “We ride east tomorrow.”

 

“If Junhong is right, we should make it to the river earlier than we expected.” Youngjae nodded, folding his arms.

 

“Enough of this.” Yongguk waved his hand towards their friends, “It is late, there is little use discussing these things further. You all need rest, there are many more long hours of riding tomorrow.”

 

“As you wish, Your Majesty.” Jonghwan bowed his head towards the King, then again to Junhong, “Your Highness.” With a passing smile, he slipped free of the tent and allowed the heavy cloth door to fall closed behind him.

 

Yongguk rose from his seat and pressed his fingers between his brow, Junhong knew tension had been building there lately. Although exploring the peninsula had filled Yongguk with a great joy, every concern or issue he had known only on parchment was laid bare and true before him, and weeks of travel and exhaustion were soon to catch up.

 

“You may leave as well.” Junhong lifted his head and turned again to Daehyun. Youngjae had rounded the table to his lover's side, but neither had made towards the door.

 

“With all due respect, Your Highness, my place is to remain by the King's side.” Daehyun replied, lips pressing together, “These woods are dark and unfamiliar. Bandits may not be far off.”

 

“You deserve your rest just as much as Junhong or I, Daehyun-ah.” Yongguk glanced back over his shoulder, “Leave us.”

 

“Your Majesty-” Daehyun was cut off with a raised palm from Yongguk.

 

“Take your love to bed. Junhong has protected me just fine in the past.” The two friends met eyes for a lingering moment, until Daehyun bowed and together with Youngjae he withdrew. Night had fallen slowly, as it did in Summer. The evening seemed to stretch out for hours, while cicadas hummed their rhythmic song, growing more and more active now it was harder for the birds to see them. There were not so many this summer and Junhong wondered if the abnormally cold winter past had been enough to kill them before they made it to the surface, or if it was merely the way the pattern of their life cycle rolled out.

 

The snow had taken weeks to melt, and it had seemed as though Spring did not begin until after the death of Kwon and his General brother, or the imprisonment of Seonmi. Huingol began to awaken from its lingering hibernation, and as slush muddied the gravel and and rock streets, the city once more was bustling with life. The days began to grow longer, the nights warmer and colour returned, starting with the soft green of new leaves, to the new Spring time blossoms. As winter furs were shed from the city people's bodies, many began to prepare for the new season's celebrations. A day to revel in the cycle of life, and to honour their King in commemoration of his birth. Very few were invited from beyond the city's walls, Yonguk had told him that this was a night to celebrate Huingol and it's people, their survival of the dark, and the coming of the sun.

 

One afternoon, from the wall Junhong had watched the Palace maids walk together through the city's open gate to gather wild flowers that grew at the edge of the forest, and they sang as they decorated the great hall with them. In the evening they twined the green stalks together with string, creating crowns unlike any of the gold and jewels Junhong had seen of Huingol's treasures before. Instead it was a priceless wreath of pale pinks and ruby reds, soft purples and warm yellows gathered together to create something truly divine. Junhong had prepared for the party as his King's jewel and treasure, but when he had entered the Great Hall, he was welcomed as his Prince. No longer was he a southern peasant, nor a captured whore for the moment that woven crown had touched his head, he could not be considered anything but royalty.

 

In the forest, the night only darkened until not a sliver of light was left upon the horizon, even the moon hid from them behind gathering clouds and the men were left with nothing but the light of their bonfire and the warmth of their drink. Lanterns hung around the canvas tent and offered just enough light for the royal duo to prepare themselves for bed, but still Junhong's brow furrowed in his effort to read the text painted across yellowing parchment in his leather bound book.

 

“My jewel.” Yongguk spoke from over his shoulder. He curved his fingers into the blankets and drew them back from the mattress, his naked body sliding with ease up behind his love, “It's late.”

 

“Just a few more pages, Hyung.” Junhong said, eyes shifting over every word, taking in the story. It was amazing, to him, how something as simple as words were powerful enough to evoke so much within him, to paint whole pictures and worlds, to show him things he had never seen before. The King merely chuckled as his arms wound around his Prince, his lips pressing slow kisses down Junhong's exposed spine.

 

“You say that every night.” He replied. It proved distracting, as always, to have lips against Junhong's skin, and he emitted a soft sound of protest, trying to roll away only to be gripped tighter in the arms of his King.

 

“You encouraged my literacy but now you will not allow me to read.” Junhong replied, emitting a laugh as he was crushed closer against a broad chest.

 

“I was not anticipating written page to strip me of all attention from you.” Yongguk hummed into his ear, palm pressed flat to Junhong's bare stomach to draw him onto his back. The King's gaze lowered down to sweep across Junhong's flesh, and his book was set aside and forgotten, “You are art, my love.”

 

Junhong smiled, “No, your love for me is art. My skin is merely the canvas upon which it is painted.”

 

Fingers lifted and brushed Junhong's hair back from across his forehead. They remained silent, just for a moment, revelling in the simplicity of being together. Junhong had always thought that it shouldn't be this easy, falling in love, but every time Yongguk met his eyes, smiled to him, he was reminded how simple it would be to fall again.

 

The sound of voices beyond the heavy fabric door was fading, he guessed most of the soldiers would have retired by then, attempted to earn themselves as much sleep as they could while their horses rested in preparation for the coming day. They would continue east towards the sea and the mountains, and a home Junhong had not forgotten.

 

“What do you think of, my love?” Yongguk murmured, his cheek propped to his hand, his eyes following Junhong's own as they gazed up towards the roof.

 

“It's nearing four years since last I saw the sea.” Junhong murmured and turned his head towards his King, “Sometimes I have wondered if I might forget what it looks like, or if it may forget me in turn.”

 

“You shall see it soon.” A finger slid over Junhong's cheekbone, past his nose and down across his lips. The first time Yongguk touched him thus, he had been curious and confused, but it did not take him long to realise his King could not go long without touching his skin, much like one would stroke the petal of a blooming flower, just to remind ones self that true beauty does exist, “It will not be long until you are home.”

 

When Junhong's eyes met Yongguk's, he saw a sadness lingering there, and yet he smiled, “I already am.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, I have returned! Here is something I have been working on for a good long while, and I am so excited and anxious to finally get it out to people. I know this chapter feels somewhat slow but I promise it's just the foundation stuff!
> 
> The map I describe of the Peninsula in this is, of course, very strongly based on Korea, but I do want to reiterate that the Korea that is described in the entirety of the Huingol series is not accurate either geographically nor historically. It's an imaginary korea-like place of my imagination. 
> 
> Two place names I have made up that are mentioned are:  
> Peureungang - Blue River  
> Jeokshipja - Red Crossing
> 
> I do hope you enjoy this final part to the Huingol trilogy, and I want to give a special thanks to my amazing, dear friends Laura, Rai and Yoot for all the love and support they've given me through all my whinging and whining over the past few months. 
> 
> I have created a cover art for this story that can be viewed [here](http://i.imgur.com/hYcxl8B.png)
> 
>  
> 
> [tumblr](http://chngminxo.tumblr.com) | [twitter](http://twitter.com/yonggukspelvis)


	2. Chapter 2

That morning, they split up. In dawn's early light, the King did not wait for their camp to be dismantled and rode ahead with the Prince and their most trusted friends and soldiers, while the servants and clerics accompanying them followed behind at a slower pace. By the time they made it to the river, it was mid afternoon and clouds were gathering over the mountains. The road brought them almost to the bank and the water was still, sparkling in the sun that peeked through the drifting clouds, promising rain that evening. A little way down stream Junhong saw the flowing water split and divide into smaller streams, trailing over rocks and creating small islands in between with a few trees sprouting from what little earth was there. Junhong was confident that even their broadest carts would have little struggle crossing through the water to the safety of the clearing on the opposite bank.

 

“The water is low, we should cross down there.” Daehyun said, pointing towards where he could see the shallowest point but Yongguk shook his head and dismounted from the back of his tired stallion.

 

“It is a river, Daehyun-ah, there are no tides that we must avoid.” He rubbed his palm tenderly behind the steed's ears and down the length of its sweat slicked neck, “There is time for us to rest before the others arrive. Our men are hungry and our horses in need of a rest and water.”

 

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Daehyun bowed his head. Slowly, the others followed Yongguk to their feet and Junhong immediately made to remove Yeona's saddle from her hot back. Carefully, he set it down upon the grass and wound his arms around her neck in loving gratitude for how hard she had worked carrying his weight for many long hours.

 

“Do you wish to bathe, my love?” Junhong turned his head towards Yongguk and smiled tiredly at him, nodding his head with a heavy sigh.

 

“Very much so.” He groaned out. Yongguk laughed and caught his younger love in his arms.

 

“Then come to the bank behind the privacy of those trees. It may not be as satisfying as a proper bath, but it shall be enough until we make it to the next city.” For a moment Junhong closed his eyes, sucked in the scent of sweat and horses and Yongguk's skin and he was reminded of the fact that didn't want to be anything else but his.

 

“Let's go.”

 

It was clear to all around them that Daehyun was not happy that the King and Prince were moving away from the group on their own, but with one glance from Yongguk he knew to leave them be. There was nothing the King would so readily protect than Junhong and his privacy. The trees created the perfect shelter around them and slowly, the Southerner pulled back his clothing, leaving each individual garment of stitched linen and soft cotton spread out on a nearby rock and warming in the sun. Yongguk settled back on the beach and was content to watch as Junhong stepped naked into the river and shivered as cool water lapped at his toes, then ankles, then up to his knees and waist where he finally lowered himself down completely. From there they could barely hear the rhythm of conversation rolling over from the camp, instead only listening to the gentle rush of the river's flow, the sounds of cicadas, and wind blowing between green leaves.

 

“You've been here before?” Yongguk called down towards him and Junhong turned his head. He shrugged one shoulder.

 

“Once or twice I came this far north to where the river split.” He hummed, trailing wet fingers through his hair, then submerging his head completely.

 

Yongguk waited until he had resurfaced to reply, “Did General Kwon..?”

 

“No.” Junhong shook his head, sending water droplets flying, “When we rode from Kang we took the route through Jeokshipja and into the mountains.” He wasn't sure why Yongguk asked, but the King seemed satisfied with his answer and nodded his head, falling silent as he watched his lover bathe. Junhong's hands scrubbed gently over his skin, wiping away dirt and grime, cleansing his body of sweat. It felt like it had been a long time since he had properly washed his skin, and although the next city they were to visit filled him with dread, he eagerly anticipated living once more inside a building.

 

Above their heads a cloud passed over the sun and the breeze picked up. Goose bumps rose on Junhong's skin as the droplets clinging to his flesh cooled in the afternoon air and a shiver ran down his spine.

 

“My love...” Yongguk pushed himself to sit, beckoning with open arms, “Come here, I shall warm you.”

 

Dripping wet and shuddering with cold, Junhong stepped once more onto land and sunk down naked into the arms of his King where he was wrapped safe in the comforting warmth of his robes. Tender kisses were pressed slowly along his shoulder and he only pressed in further towards the comfort and closed his eyes. The sound of running water was comforting to him, as were the calls of swallows as they darted through the air, catching the crickets that leapt that little bit too high from the grass. Sun rays sent their warmth down upon them, and already what water clung to Junhong's skin was beginning to dry, instead leaving him pleasantly hot. Months before would have seen the boy hiding his skin in shyness or shame, but nudity had lost its vulnerability to Junhong, now he never felt so precious as he did while bare in Yongguk's arms.

 

“How far are we from your village?” Yongguk glanced down, his fingers pulling from Junhong's skin to instead brush through strands of his drying hair, flattening them from where they flew into his eyes.

 

“Not far.” The Prince shifted, “It is less than a few miles east of where the river meets the sea.”

 

“I want to take you there.” Yongguk said. It was something Junhong had thought about a lot over the past years, though now he was sure it would appear unfamiliar to him. Some small part of him wished never to see it again, to only remember the modest homes and smiling faces as they had been through the warmth of his childhood. He did not want to see the charred homes, nor the bones that littered through the grass.

 

“Nothing will be there now...” He replied, smiling sadly, “But I want to go. I want to see the sea.”

 

“Tomorrow we shall arrive in what once was Kang's home.” The King murmured into his ear, kissing just beneath it a moment later. Junhong shivered, Yongguk only held him tighter.

 

“I know.” The Prince replied. The cool wind rustled the leaves above them to obscure the sun and golden shapes danced behind Junhong's eyelids. The shapes weren't quite whole, but he swore he could see people dancing.

 

“If you are not ready...” Yongguk sighed.

 

“I shall never be ready.” Junhong said and his hands searched across his front, fingers sliding to curve around Yongguk's hand, just to hold, “But I am no longer a fearful child, Hyung. I am your Prince, and as your Prince I must look beyond my own suffering and focus instead on what the Peninsula needs.”

 

“I fear that I will not be able to look beyond your suffering, nor your pain.” From through the trees, a horse whinnied and Junhong squeezed Yongguk's hand. On the opposite bank, a flock of geese swooped to land, their feet trailing against the river's surface before their bodies made contact and slid through the water. Their feathers bristled in the breeze, but they soon gathered together, resting after a long flight. They would have migrated south for the winter past, flown thousands of miles over land and sea to find somewhere warm, somewhere safe and protected from snow chill and ice. Although this part of the river rarely froze, what little food the creatures could find there would hardly be enough to sustain them until Summer's return and altogether they would spend less than half the year on the peninsula, yet it was these forests that were deemed their native home.

 

The warmth of a palm slid gently over Junhong's naked chest, his stomach, down to his abdomen and hip to feel the sun's heat on his skin. From their weeks of travel, already the southerner's body was glowing a rich gold from where the summer touched him and if Yongguk did not know better he may have believed that his precious love was not made from flesh nor bone, but instead rare stone and treasures of the divine. A blessed jewel from Noeul herself.

 

Eyelashes fluttered and Junhong opened his eyes to meet the gaze of Yongguk, warm and ever loving and tender as anything. Junhong was careful as he pulled his hand from Yongguk's hold to instead take his palm to cheek and draw his king down into a loving kiss, unlike any they had shared in the days before when surrounded by people, always watched by an attentive guard. This kiss was neither chaste nor fleeting, it was deep and rich, like thick honey or red wine. Fingers and palms roamed across valleys and plains of naked flesh while Junhong keened into the heat of his King and together they got lost.

 

*

 

The rain began when they crossed the river. Junhong looked up at the sky as he felt the first droplet of water land on his skin while Yeona faithfully carried him through the shallow water. Yongguk was just ahead of him, he noticed it too and called for the procession to move along faster, and make it to the safe cover of trees. Soldiers and servants worked with haste to set up their camp, and all hid themselves away under the canopies of their tents to protect themselves from the wet, and the chill it brought with it.

 

Each raindrop hammered a steady rhythm on the tent, dragging leaves and branches down under their weight as the clouds obscured the sun and added grey to the sunset gold. Junhong stood at the tent's open door and watched the horses as they stood tethered to nearby tree trunks. They dipped their heads and bat their lashes to keep the water from getting in their eyes as they waited out the passing storm. Upon arrival at their camp, Yeona's saddle had been set aside in the corner of their tent and she had been left unbound to wander through the camp and down to drink from the river. Beyond the other tents he could see her form, standing out in the rain and watching goslings as they played together at the edge of the water, their soft feather down repelling the water that fell from the sky. They were sweet, the way that they waddled through the grass and mud, falling over one another in their eagerness.

 

It wasn't long until the clouds parted, and the final light of the sun shone through. A few soldiers stepped out into the forest around them to find wood for a fire, while others began preparing an evening meal. Daehyun stood at the edge of the trees, his palm curved around the hilt of his sword as he watched his men moving in silence, eyes sharp even during such a mundane task. He knew that only the best had joined them on their travels, and only the best were worthy of serving the King.

 

“Are you hungry?” Yongguk spoke and Junhong turned his head from where he still watched by the door.

 

“Only a little.” He hummed, closing his eyes. His hair had fallen from its binds, but Yongguk did not mind as he approached and simply drew it away from where it hung at his nape, baring the skin he had adored only hours before and kissing over it again.

 

A soldier emerged from the trees and stood beside Daehyun, murmuring something into his ear that had his brow creasing with concern. The King didn't pay the outdoors any mind, however, instead winding his arms around his younger love, “Youngjae intends on taking time for your lessons this evening. I know the travel has prevented your studies.”

 

“It's okay. I like it.” Junhong smiled, but he did not turn away as he saw Daehyun approaching them, hand resting still on his weapon.

 

“Your majesty.” He said, bowing his head. Through the trees behind him, three horses emerged carrying strong men donned in black and blue, “You shall want to see this.”

 

The horsemen approached the centre of the camp and dropped from their steeds. Two were tall, their clothing simple even in its obvious luxury, a cotton robe over what Junhong saw was leather armour, while the third was donned in silk. He appeared near to sixty and his black hair was tied in a knot atop his head, but he was not a simple soldier, even though the armour he wore. Soldiers gathered at the centre of the camp with hands settling on their swords as the three men glanced around them, “A lord, Your Majesty. He claims he saw our camp through the trees and recognised the insignia of your soldiers.” Daehyun said and the King nodded his head. Yongguk stepped from the tent first, but Junhong was close behind and he saw the way the three strangers dropped swiftly to their knees before him in a deep bow of respect.

 

“Your Majesty.” The man in the centre spoke, “An honour it is to meet you again.”

 

“Lord Baek, we did not anticipate meeting with you for another week. What chance it is that we bump into one another in these forests.” Yongguk replied. Junhong glanced towards him, his body relaxing as he realised this man was familiar to them, “You may rise.”

 

Lord Baek stood once more to his feet and his lips spread into a wide smile, “I am riding home from my cousin's compound in the west. The last thing I was to expect was meeting the Horse King on my journey. The Gods have smiled down upon us today.”

 

“You ride alone, my Lord?” Yongguk hummed, glancing to the guards that flanked the man.

 

“No, I have been travelling with a General Kim and his most favoured men, I am not sure if you know him. His father was a dear friend of mine, and he has only just been lifted to such a rank.” The Lord chuckled, “I see you have quite the procession with you on your travels, Your Majesty, though it is modest for a King.”

 

“I need little. I ride with my most trusted, Jung Daehyun, and Moon Jonghwan with his men, also.” Yongguk beckoned for the soldiers to approach.

 

“Moon Jonghwan? The son of the late General, I assume.” Lord smiled warmly to the man as he approached, “Your father was a brilliant man, both in intellect and physical skill. I was greatly saddened at the news of his death.”

 

Jonghwan bowed his head politely at the praise, but said nothing in response and the King continued, “Most importantly I am accompanied by the Prince Consort.” Yongguk said, his warm palm pressing gently to the small of Junhong's back.

 

The Lord turned towards him with a gaze of curiosity, “I have heard rumour of the King's beautiful companion, but I must say spoken word has done you no justice, your Highness.” He bowed his head low.

 

“Thank you, my Lord.” Junhong said in simple reply. Yongguk's warm eyes turned to him with adoring pride and his arm wound it's way tighter around Junhong's middle, drawing him in ever closer.

 

“Join us tonight. You must be tired from a day's ride.” Yongguk gestured towards the forming fire and Lord Baek grinned.

 

“It would be an honour.”

 

That night they feasted around the fire as soldiers mingled between the surrounding trees. Yongguk sat with Lord Baek to his left, and Junhong to his right while Daehyun watched with an attentive eye from not far behind them. Their selection of travelling servants cooked meat over the fire and served it on wooden plates as the clearing erupted with laughter, and the crackling of the large fire sending smoke trailing through the air. Youngjae took seat beside the Prince, and together they spoke as the King focused on their guest until late, when the moon shone down upon them and only the last embers crackled between laid stones in the fire bed. Junhong's fingers trailed along the King's arm and he kissed him farewell as he withdrew back to their tent, and the safety of cotton sheets and soft cushions that awaited him there.

 

*

 

It was before dawn when Junhong opened his eyes. He stared at the dull grey of their canopy roof and listened to the morning call of feeding crickets in the grass, and the soft song of the birds that chased them. Yongguk was asleep at his side, his face pressed into the softness of their pillow but he did not make a sound. One arm was strung across Junhong's naked chest, easy to move as he shifted just slightly, managing to slip free of his King's hold and stand naked in the early morning chill. In silence, he dressed, slipping on leather shoes and stepping free of their tent with his bow and quiver slung over his shoulder.

 

The grass was wet with early morning dew and only the first hint of light was glowing on the horizon. Most soldiers were still sleeping on makeshift beds spread out on the ground, but some were already awake, gathered together around the fire and watching as servants began to prepare the morning meal. Some looked up and watched him as he stepped silently across the clearing and towards the trees beyond, but no one made a move to stop him. Though, he figured they would be telling Daehyun as soon as he emerged from his tent.

 

Dawn's early light had yet to penetrate the forest canopy but the darkness did not make him feel fear. Instead, he walked towards the tired snorts and sighs of their faithful horses that rested between the leaning trees, his hand brushing against their sides on his way. A white mare was leaning down to tear her teeth into the green grass, while a chestnut stallion stood with eyes closed, taking as much sleep as he could before yet another day of relentless riding. Junhong's fingers threaded through his mane, then brushed through the tail of a gelding and across the rump of a filly. They all stood close to one another, sharing in familiarity and comfort of their stable mates from a Valley home left far behind and at their centre was Yeona.

 

She lifted her head when the Prince came near and he smiled as he scratched behind her ears, “Lets go, my darling.” He hummed into her neck. She needed no bridle nor lead to follow him from the herd and together they walked further into the forest. The sun was rising by then, and soon they stood alone and together in a quiet clearing and Junhong exhaled a slow breath.

 

Yongguk was as good a partner as he was a King, Daehyun, Youngjae and Jonghwan were such close friends that they should rather be called family, but still time to be alone was what Junhong missed the most about Huingol. Hours could be spent with nothing but his books, or his Gayageum or Yeona as those around him carried on with their duties, but here in the far south it was a luxury none of them were often awarded.

 

With two feet planted steadily in the ground, Junhong drew an arrow from his quiver and nestled its head just above the grip. Fingers brushed against the soft feather fletching as he brought the nock to the bow string and took aim. It had been Jongup who had taught him Archery through the early spring. Yongguk claimed him to be talented in the art, and Himchan only allowed it as long as he could be there just in case the soldier over exerted himself. They had managed to spend long hours together in the palace yards practicing under the watchful eye of the royal brothers, but Junhong had lacked in practice since leaving the valley. With the bow loaded, he lifted its body and with his index and middle fingers he drew back the string.

 

Overhead a bird called and Junhong released the arrow.

 

“You're a good shot.” A voice came from behind him and he startled, turned his head. At the edge of the clearing was a man. He looked to be around Yongguk's age, and from the black leather armour he wore, Junhong knew he was a soldier.

 

“You don't know what I was aiming at.” He replied. The Prince turned his head back towards the tree, where the arrow was embedded in the centre of the trunk.

 

“Well I gather you were aiming for the tree.” The man said. There was a gentleness about his face, even as his lips curved into an amused smirk, “I'm Sungwon.” He introduced.

 

“Junhong.” The younger replied, his hand still curved tightly around the grip and fingers crooked beneath the slack string.

 

“Well, Junhong, what are you doing in the forest at this time?” Sungwon asked, taking a step closer to the younger. By then Junhong had noticed the dips and arches of his words, he was a Southerner.

 

“I don't see how that is the business of a stranger.” The boy replied, taking another arrow from his quiver and aiming again.

 

“These woods aren't the safest for a young thing like you. There are bandits in here, not to mention the King's procession is not far off. I doubt they'd take meeting with any trespasser easily, especially one that is armed.” When Junhong released the second arrow, Sungwon knocked at the base intentionally with his knee, sending it flying between the trees and out of sight. Somewhere beyond, startled birds took flight from rocking branches, “Your shoulders are too tense, you need to be relaxed with a bow.”

 

Junhong pursed his lips with annoyance, “I can handle the King's guards.” He said, “But what is to say it isn't _you_ I should be wary of? You're just as much a stranger as any bandit or traveller.”

 

Sungwon chuckled and shook his head, “You can handle the King's guards? A little cocky aren't we, for someone who carries a bow like he is afraid of it.”

 

“You know very little about fear if that is what you see.” The Prince replied. Carefully he strung another arrow onto his bow and lifted it again, but as he took aim Sungwon's palm touched the centre of his back. Junhong straightened on instinct and glanced down at the palm that gently cupped his elbow to doctor his stance. When he released the arrow this time, it embedded its self in the tree less than an inch below the first and the tip of Sungwon's lips lifted.

 

“Your bow is beautiful. I haven't seen one like it in the south before.” He said.

 

“It was a gift.” Junhong replied. He didn't notice that he had tumbled back into his ocean dialect until he tasted the sea on his tongue.

 

“You shoot a Northern bow, but speak like a Southerner.” Sungwon said, “Curious.”

 

“Junhong?” Youngjae's voice called through the trees and Sungwon's lips twitched into a smile. As Junhong turned his head toward's his friend's voice, the soldier stepped away from him and by the time the Prince looked back he was gone.

 

Feet crunched on the forest floor and again Youngjae called his name, “Junhong-ah!” It echoed through the empty clearing, enough to make Yeona raise her elegant head and gaze curiously at the man who created such a sound as he emerged from the trees.

 

“I'm here.” The boy said, swinging his bow again over his shoulder.

 

Youngjae's eyes were tired in the early morning light, and his smile was gentle even as he gestured back towards the trees, “Song said he saw you heading into the forest. We should get back, or else Yongguk-hyung will send out a search party for you. He already has Jonghwan and Daehyun anxious for your whereabouts.” A familiar hand pressed to the small of his back and together they made it through the trees, Yeona in tow.

 

Servants and soldiers were already dismantling their camp when they arrived again beside the river. Large carts pulled by a pair of strong, working horses was being loaded with canvas tents and wooden furniture, preparing for the clearing to be left again behind. Some soldiers were still devouring their morning meal, while others saddled their horses and down by the water stood Yongguk. His arms were folded over his chest as he listened intently to Lord Baek, who stood beside him, gesticulating with his palms raised to the sky. The southerner said something and made himself laugh, but Junhong saw only the edge of Yongguk's lips twitched upwards with amusement. He had a habit for that, never showing his true feelings outwardly and Junhong suspected it was not so much the rigidity of his position, nor the seriousness he exuded. Instead there was a shyness to his manner, often obscured by the severity of his brow but Junhong knew well how their beloved King would let his true feelings show when it was them in the privacy of their chamber and they were laid bare in both body and mind.

 

“Your Majesty.” Youngjae called and Yongguk turned his head, his smile only growing true when he was met with the sight of his love.

 

“Good morning, my jewel.” He said, drawing Junhong in. For just a moment, Junhong lost himself in the warmth of Yongguk's embrace, his face buried in the crook of his shoulder and both arms tight around him. There was a safety unlike anything else that he felt while tucked against his King's breast, “We're almost ready to ride out.”  
  
“I am ready once Yeona is saddled.” Junhong replied before dipping his head to the nearby lord in a polite greeting, “Good Morning, Lord Baek.”

 

“Good morning, Your Highness. I look forward to riding with your procession today, Your Majesty. The journey from here to the township of Kang is quite pleasant.” The man turned his head with a flourish of his hand. It reminded Junhong of a flag in the wind, flapping backwards and forwards with little restraint.

 

“We will not be riding direct.” The King said in reply, “There is somewhere we must go on our way.” Junhong knew Yongguk was looking at him, but he did not turn his head. Out on the water, the cluster of goslings were following their rounded mother. From there in daylight, Junhong could see that the down on their small bodies was falling away, and patches of grey and black feathers were peeking through but still they followed her through the current obediently, calling after her. Junhong knew only some of the fledgling birds would stay in the flock, while others would part way to find a new family by the Summer's end, never to see their siblings, nor their mother again. For a moment, Junhong wondered if they would ever recognise one another, per chance they would meet again on a river or a lake, months and seasons apart.

 

Yongguk's arm was warm and safe around Junhong's middle as he lead the younger back towards their saddled horses where their cavalry waited to lead them on towards the sea. Junhong's palm smoothed up along the arch of Yeona's nose and she snorted to him and nudged in closer with affection. A little further down the road, horses hooves clipped against stone and the men of Lord Baek's procession rounded the corner to join them. They wore a uniform of black linen over leather armour and at their head rode Sungwon.

 

“Ah!” Lord Baek called, “Your Majesty this is the General I ride with, Kim Sungwon.” He said, and the man dropped from his steed to bow before their King.

 

“Your Majesty, it is an honour.” He greeted, his eyes moving next to Junhong to whom he once again dipped his head, “Your Highness.”

 

“Thank you for joining us on our ride this morning, General. Though it is best we get on our way.” Yongguk said, nodding his head at the greeting. Without hesitation, he stepped back to mount his own steed, and soon others were following. Yeona flicked her tail once Junhong was seated comfortably on her back, and together they rode out.

 

Yongguk took the lead, with his Prince to his right and Youngjae once more to his other side. Instead of Daehyun riding to the King's left, it was instead Lord Baek, with their guards following not far behind. The sky above their heads was clear, and crickets and cicadas already called from between trees in the growing summer heat.

 

“Your Majesty, do you not wish for your lover to ride in a carriage?” Lord Baek asked, glancing to Junhong as he sat astride his adored steed, “Something so precious shouldn't be exposed to the sun, or else his skin will turn brown as a farm boy's.”

 

“As Prince Consort, Junhong is at liberty to send for what he requires.” Yongguk said in reply, “He does not sit to my right as display, Lord Baek. Whether his skin is summer gold or winter pearl, he remains as worthy of respect as any Queen, just as he reserves the right to ride at my side like one.”

 

“Many generations have lived and died since the last time a Southerner ruled the peninsula beside the King.” Sungwon said, his palm pressed to his thigh as their horses moved further down the road, “This is time for celebration here.”

 

The road ahead was growing steadily familiar to Junhong. He could close his eyes and remember every rock and bend along the well worn road, describe each clearing as they passed. The smell of the lush wood was twining together with that of salt and sea and over their heads the gulls were calling.

 

When they made it to the fork in the road, Yongguk called for the procession to continue onwards without them while he and Junhong guided their steeds towards the ocean. Only Jonghwan, Daehyun and Youngjae peeled back from the group to join them, their silent protection.

 

Lord Baek brought General Kim alongside Yongguk's stallion as they faced the unkept road, his lips turned downwards into a frown, “Nobody local travels this road anymore. It is a bad place where terrible things have happened.”

 

“You do not have to join us.” Yongguk replied. The trees that lined the way were overgrown, and grass was breaking through the road, the clay and dirt no longer stamped down to prevent seed from taking. Together they rode in silence with Junhong taking the lead, an ocean of uncertainty crashing through him with every onward step. Around him, the trees were suffocating in their dark and dank, as though void of emotion where once they had been overflowing with joy, and with life.

 

Before them, the road opened up and into the skeleton of a town. Charred beams of broken homes lay half decayed in the swaying grass, while others barely clung on to life but looked so fragile that one gust of wind would seemingly blow them over. They lined the road all the way down towards the beach in neat rows, all once even in size and shape, but now in different stages of collapse.

 

“What happened here?” Jonghwan asked.

 

“A village was purged by an easily angered and selfish Lord.” Sungwon spoke, “I remember seeing the smoke from the road, but by the time I made it here...” He trailed off with lips twisting into a grimace.

 

“It is unclear what happened, but there were no survivors.” Lord Baek said with saddened eyes.

 

“There was one.” Junhong replied and dropped from his steed into the grass. All watched him but one, Youngjae's keen eye noticing the way Sungwon's body stilled as Junhong's words appeared to take him by surprise. The southern General's shoulders tightened and his lips pressed together in a cautious line.

 

“They rode in not long before sunset.” Junhong swallowed, “My father was one of the first to die, he was walking down the road, over there.” He pointed to the corner of a building, his brows furrowed down, “Everyone was screaming and running. Some tried to make it towards the beach and the boats, but they were slain before they made it. My brother told me to look out for my mother and our grandmother, he had to go down towards the water, there was a girl who lived down there, they were to be married that summer. He wanted to protect her.” He smiled sadly, pressing the palm of his hand to a failing door frame, “My grandmother was not fast... She did not make it to the safety of our home but both my mother and I did. My Mama told me to hide, even though I promised my brother I would be the one to protect her, and I did behind some crates of fish my father had brought in from the morning's catch.” He swallowed, closed, “I watched them slit her throat.”

 

The scent of smoke and burning skin was filling Junhong's nose, the sound of metal meeting metal ringing in his ears. White palms lifted from his sides and he pressed them over his ears to try and block it out, to make it all go away.

 

Yongguk dropped down from his horse and stepped up behind his Prince. Warm hands settled on hips to bring him closer, “A blade to the throat is quick.” He murmured, “She didn't feel it.”

 

Junhong looked down to where grass grew through the floors of what had long before been his home. Clay plates lay shattered between rocks and dirt, metal pots crusted with rust and losing shape from years of salt and rain. Over his shoulder, he cast a glance to the General, “When you came here...”

 

Sungwon exhaled through his nose, “Some of my men extinguished the fires before they spread to the forest, the others gathered the dead. We buried them behind the beach.” He gestured towards the waves.

 

Gentle hills rolled down towards the water and a small beach was spread out between sea worn cliffs. When Junhong walked along the road and towards the sea, his arms were outstretched to take in the textures of burnt wood and broken homes. The gravesite was barely recognisable by then, other than the mound of stones built to mark it in silent respect, and loving memory.

 

Youngjae was the first one to step forward. He held a stone in his hand, small and worn smooth by the crashing waves and in silence he lay it down by the mound left years before. Soon, Daehyun followed, then Jonghwan, Lord Baek and General Kim, each placing it down with care. Yongguk's fingers curled gently into the fabric of Junhong's sleeve, then brushed against the back of his palm as he withdrew to take a stone of his own and lay it down beside them. Not a single person there had known the village before it was burned, but Junhong knew that didn't matter to them. He wasn't sure who it was that began singing, but soon a melody of soft voices carried a funeral song through the air in memory of those who died long before, while the blossoms of wild chives danced in the wind over the surface of the grave.

 

There was something peaceful, Junhong thought, with the gulls flying over head and the morning sun twinkling off the calm surface of the broad ocean. For years, it had been the stars in the night sky that brought comfort to him and held the wolves in his mind at bay with their gnashing teeth that pulled flesh from bone to leave his family nothing but meat on the forest floor. Now, though, standing before their grave, Junhong knew he did not need the comfort of celestial giants or funeral stories because his family were together, safe in the warmth of their grassy bed lulled through sleep by the ocean's lullaby and gull's call. Wind roared around him, the tide was coming in but through his tears Junhong smiled, because although his family were dead and gone, they would always be home.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya gurl here is feeling heckin anxious about this fic all of a sudden. I'm really sorry if there are any mistakes or some things don't make much sense. Please ask any questions you have, and I hope you enjoy!


	3. Chapter 3

In the light of the setting sun, Kang looked as ominous as Junhong remembered it. The township, built of grey stone was erected on a slope and into the face of a jagged cliff that towered above rows of simple homes. Walls built of rock cut from the mountain were patrolled by the city's trained guard, while the city's banner hung alongside the flag of the Horse King in welcoming decoration. Once, many years ago, Junhong had thought the compound unmatched in wealth and grandeur, but with his new Northern eyes it seemed like nothing when compared to the golden halls of Huingol.

 

Voices called from the watchtowers above, and Junhong lifted his gaze to watch a row of men dragging up the heavy wooden gate to allow their honoured guests entry. Torches illuminated the paved streets, and at first, Junhong thought the city to be empty. No voices could be heard, no people walked around them, all doors to homes and stores were closed with only very few lights shining from within.

 

“Where is everyone?” Jonghwan asked, his hand resting against his thigh.

 

“They are in their homes, watching.” Lord Baek replied, “The last time Northern horses rode into their city, their Lord was killed. The people of Kang are wary of strangers.”

 

Junhong turned his head and looked over his shoulder. Through the dim light of the late evening, he saw a face peering after them from a wooden door, a young woman. Their eyes met for a fraction of a moment, then she was gone.

 

The main road lead them through the silent city to the central square spread out before the keep built into the cliff. The dark façade would have been formidable if not for the warm light that spilled from rows of windows, and the door that gaped like an open mouth. Servant boys and guards alike lined the entrance, and as they made their final approach, a slender man stepped through the entryway.

 

“Your majesty!” He said, bowing low before Yongguk as he dismounted his tired steed, “It is an honour to welcome you to the city of Kang.”

 

“Thank you, Lord Yun.” The King dipped his head in thanks. Servants rushed forward to take their horses towards the stables where stable hands they had brought with them from Huingol would water and feed them before they would rest.

 

“A feast has been prepared in your honour, please come. It has been many months since last we spoke.” Yun said with lips that curved into the warmth of a smile. He was taller than Yongguk, but he did not quite reach Junhong's own height, with dark hair pulled back into a Southern style, and deep indigo robes donning his form. He was well older than their king, with gentle eyes and a kind face, but he spoke as a Southerner.

 

Yongguk's palm once again pressed to the small of Junhong's back and together they stepped into the building of which Junhong had hoped to never return.

 

Servants stopped in their rounds to bow low as the group walked through the carpeted halls, right then left, then right once more, “Your men told me when they arrived that you and a select few had taken a different road to reach our city today, Your Majesty. I was worried as the night fell that I would need to send out a search party.” Lord Yun said with a chuckle.

 

“I rode with four Southern men today, there was no concern that we would stray from our path.” The King replied.

 

“Yes, I see, it is an unexpected treat to have Lord Baek joining us this evening, and General Kim, too.” Lord Yun dipped his head towards the two men, then turned his gaze onto Junhong, “And the Golden Prince, I am lead to believe, is of Southern origin, as well?”

 

“I am, My Lord.” Junhong said. He did not continue as they rounded their third corner and faced the entry of the great hall.

 

Two long tables were set up parallel along the length of the hall, seated with rows of visiting soldiers from Huingol and Kang aristocracy the Lord Yun invited to the esteemed event. At the far side of the room, a third table was arranged with lavish decorations, and a throne was set in the middle to seat their King. All conversation fell as the group gathered at the door and men and women alike stood to bow low in respectful greeting before finally the festivities began.

 

As food was brought forth and set upon the long tables, Junhong sat to Yongguk's right, while Lord Yun took position to his left, with Lord Baek to his other side.

 

“Would you mind, Your Highness?” Kim Sungwon's voice caused Junhong's eyes to lift from the hall before him and he turned to see the man gesturing to the empty seat to his right.

 

“You are welcome, General.” The Prince said, shifting in his own seat. Yongguk's hand was warm against his knee beneath the table, and he wished he could curl in against him as he would have if they were back in their Valley home.

 

“How has gone your journey until now, Your Majesty?” Lord Yun asked as he began eating from the range of delicacies arranged before him upon a silver plate.

 

“Long, tiring but rewarding.” The King responded, “Meeting my people has been both a great joy and honour.”

 

“The South is very different to the golden halls of Huingol, is it not?” Yun chuckled and Lord Baek laughed.

 

“They are both beautiful in their own ways.” Yongguk replied, his own lips curved into the softness of a smile.

 

“I pray Huingol is cared for in your absence?” Yun said again and the King nodded.

 

“The Master General, is caring for it while I am gone. We write to one another on occasion, I do not worry for the capital's wellbeing.” He nodded, “I trust my brother.”

 

Lord Yun nodded his head, his brows furrowing in concern and a sigh passing his lips, “I am lead to understand he was also endangered by the Kwon brother's treason. I did not believe those men to be good people, but I never anticipated them capable of such horrors.”

 

“No one did.” Lord Baek added, his palms pressing together in thought.

 

“But none of that now, tonight is a night of celebration.” Yun chuckled again, though he spied someone across the room and lifted a hand to beckon them over, “Ah, your majesty! There is someone else I wish for you to meet.”

 

Junhong followed the elder man's gaze, and across the hall he spied the familiar form of a slender woman. Her silver and black hair was tied back into a neat knot and silk robes flowed her body as she approached them up the centre of the hall and dropped to her knees in a respectful bow before the King. Cha Seoyoung's smile was honey sweet, but the lines in her face marred her beauty with age not present in Junhong's memories.

 

“This is Cha Seoyoung, the mistress of my household.” Yun said.

 

“It is an honour to meet you, Your Majesty.” She smiled, her eyes soon glancing to the boy she recognised too well, “Rumour made it south that the Horse King had taken a beautiful love. I am so pleasantly surprised that the Golden Prince once called our humble town home. Choi Junhong, many seasons have passed since last I saw your face, I am glad to see you well.”

 

“My oh my!” Lord Yun said, “Not only is the Prince southern but he is from Kang?”

 

“Home.” Junhong repeated the word, reminding himself of its feeling on his tongue, “I do not know if I would ever have deemed Kang my _home,_ Madame.”

 

“Never the less.” Seoyoung hummed through red stained lips, “I hope you enjoy your stay with us. This morning we prepared the city's most grand quarters for you, Your Majesty, and readied many inns around town to harbour your people. Only we were told upon their arrival that your soldiers wish to rather sleep in the stables by their steeds?” She laughed.

 

“Men of the Valley prefer to rest by their horses, Madame.” Yongguk nodded towards her once, “To us they are not animals to be locked up in stalls, they are as much our brothers and sisters as our own flesh and blood.”

 

“I shall arrange then, for them to be comfortable. Please, Your Majesty, send for me if you or your Prince wish for anything during your stay.” Seoyoung bowed her head.

 

“Thank you, we shall.” Yongguk nodded once in thanks. As the woman stepped back from the tables, a group of young musicians gathered by the wall not far from their table and began to play music while the Northern guests ate.

 

“She has been serving this city for many years. Her husband died when General Kwon dismantled Lord Kang's authority, and yet she wished to stay and continue her service under me.” Lord Yun said, watching as she slipped from the hall.

 

A soft hum rumbled from Lord Baek's chest as he followed Lord Yun's gaze, “There's something beautiful about widows.”

 

Even through the warmth of a southern evening, Junhong felt a cool chill of discomfort settling right in the pit of his stomach, growing and swelling as he shifted in his seat. He did not dare to turn his gaze sideward and look beyond his love and King, beyond their host to the wall where once his faithful chain had been fastened, and where for three years he was left day in and day out to be looked at, played with, treated like an animal. The smell of food was making him ill, but he was comforted by the presence of Yongguk, and the knowledge that every moment was a moment closer to being once more safe in the love of his embrace.

 

“ _Choi..._ ” Sungwon said from his right, and Junhong was drawn from his thoughts to glance sidelong towards him, “Your family name is Choi.”

 

“It was, many years ago.” Junhong replied, “I guess it still is, in some ways.”

 

Sungwon nodded his head as he continued to eat, but his eyes looked elsewhere in thought. From behind them, Youngjae watched the way the General's fingers tapped against the arm rest of his wooden chair in a slow but steady rhythm that did not match the music played for them. With eyes narrowed and hands clasped behind his back he decided that he did not trust Kim Sungwon.

 

*

 

It was the song of calling crows that accompanied the royal couple from the great hall and towards their chamber. Soft music carried through the halls behind them, along with the thrum of chatter and laughter, their servants and men finally enjoying a night between stone walls after too long camped in forests and dales under the clear summer sky. Enough food and drink had been passed around that evening in the revelry to have even the most disciplined of Huingol's army coming loose, cups full and voices raised. Junhong admitted he did love to see them happy, with smiles spreading across faces usually so stern.

 

“Are you tired?” Yongguk spoke and Junhong's head raised. He had consumed his fair amount that night, the alcohol bringing a warm red flush to his cheeks and he nodded.

 

“A little.” Was his reply. Where Yongguk's hand would usually be planted on the small of his back, instead it had wound its way around his middle, drawing their bodies close as they followed the slender form of Kang's Madame through the halls. Junhong knew that he did not need a guide to make it from the hall to the luxurious chamber that was to be theirs for the night, it was a journey he had made too many times to count. He wondered if it had been on purpose that Cha Seoyoung chose Lord Kang's bedchamber for them, or if it had been the unknowing Lord Yun who wished to offer his King their best.

 

Daehyun and Youngjae trailed behind them in silence as they rounded the corner and faced a broad wooden door. The Madame turned to them, her smile warm, “Your Majesty I do hope these quarters please you. If you wish for anything at all, please do not hesitate to call for me. There is a bath I can prepare for you, or food if you wish for it.” She gestured down the hall in the direction of the building's kitchens, “The city of Kang is also blessed with many beautiful women, it would be my pleasure to find one suited for you, Your Majesty, if you-”

 

Yongguk cut her off by raising the palm of his hand as his other arm drew Junhong closer to him, “That shall not be necessary.” He said, “But I do wish to bathe.”

 

Seoyoung's fingers twined together tightly, almost going white as she smiled again to him, this time feeling a little more forced, “Of course, Your Majesty, I shall send for the water.” With a low bow, she withdrew.

 

Together the four entered the wide chamber and the uneasy feeling settled again in Junhong's stomach. He was relieved to see the room had been changed since last he was there, each item removed and replaced with dark wood furniture lavish for the small city. Against the far wall was the fireplace, empty of wood and ash and spread across the floor a hand sewn tapestry of blue, red and gold. A chill ran through Junhong as he remembered each long night he spent curled there, desperate for warmth but not willing to submit into the jealous arms of his master and captor.

 

“Junhong?” Youngjae's voice was gentle, but the hand on Junhong's shoulder made him jump. He swallowed thickly when his throat felt tight and pulled back from his tutor, brows knitting together.

 

“Have you been in here before?” Daehyun asked. The prince did not speak, but he nodded his head yes in response. Junhong did not think himself capable of forming his nightmares into words, nor could he quite figure out how to admit that this very room and te memories it held haunted him when he closed his eyes.

 

“Your Majesty.” Seoyoung's voice came from the door. She watched the way Junhong turned towards her, their eyes meeting for just a moment before she turned to address the King, “The bath is ready.”

 

“Come, my love.” Yongguk smiled, leading Junhong with him towards the adjoining chamber that held the deep bronze bath. Seoyoung opened the door for them and they were greeted with the welcoming sight of rising steam, accompanied by the sweet scent of nourishing oils and flower petals that floated across the surface.

 

The door was closed, leaving the lovers in their privacy and Yongguk released a sigh, “I am sorry to have brought you here.” He said, brows knitted in concern.

 

“We couldn't ride south and not come here, Hyung. All of your subjects are worthy of your presence.” Junhong replied. Yongguk could see the sadness that lingered in his smile, and gently his palm pressed to his warm cheek, gently guiding his head up for their eyes to meet.

 

“I still wish you never had to return.” He murmured. Tenderly, their foreheads pressed together, and they breathed one another in.

 

“I love you.” Junhong whispered, “Thank you for taking me to the sea.”

 

“I wish there was more for you that I could do. I wish I could reverse all those wrongs and take away all of your suffering.” Yongguk shook his head. When Junhong smiled this time, it was more sincere, and it was his turn to guide his love's face back to where their eyes could meet.

 

“My suffering lead me to you.” He said in reply. Gently, their mouths met in a kiss, bodies pressing close as they leant into one another. There was something dazzling to Junhong, about how he could feel so at home when Yongguk's lips were against his own.

 

After too short a time, Yongguk pulled back, “Come, I know you have been wishing to bathe.” He said, though he did not step away. Instead, his fingers began the process of unfastening the leather belt around Junhong's middle, then untying his silk shirt. The prince slipped his arms free and let the fabric fall back behind him as he turned around to face the polished metal panel that stood as a mirror across the room. Dark eyes watched the reflection of familiar fingers loosening his undergarments and pants, pulling them free from his skin until he stood naked. The bare skin of his back brushed against the silk of Yongguk's clothing and a sigh passed through him, relishing the intimacy and privacy that came few and far between. A palm brushed against his and with his hand held tight and steady in Yongguk's own, Junhong stepped to the bath and sank down into the water with a soft exhale of relief.

 

“Beautiful.” Yongguk breathed to him with a loving smile, but before he stripped to join his love, a knock came to the door.

 

“Your Majesty.” Daehyun said.

 

“What?” Yongguk asked, he never did like being interrupted when with his love.

 

“Lord Baek and General Kim are wondering if they can speak with you before you retire this evening.” The Southerner replied. The elder man's lips twisted in distaste, but he reluctantly pulled back to stand

 

“Fine.” He said, “I shall join you soon, my jewel. Relax for a while and wait for me.”

 

“Come back quickly, Hyung.” The prince murmured, lifting his head in need of a kiss, a request the King obliged before he slipped from the room and into the hall.

 

“Stay here, both of you.” Yongguk said, and in the reflective panel, Junhong saw Daehyun and Youngjae nod, before the wooden door was once again closed, and Junhong was left alone.

 

The sweet smell of aromatic oils helped him calm as he relaxed his muscles in the warmth of the bath. He had never been treated to anything so luxurious in Kang before, but it reminded him of the past winter in Huingol, when he would bathe under the watchful eye of his King. It was surprising to him, how homesick he felt for a city that had only just become familiar to him, but in the past weeks and months away, he found himself often wishing for the company of Jongup or the affection of Hwayah. He missed the large stables and the long hours he could spend there with Yeona, and the extensive libraries he had only just learned how to read. The courtyards too, with the skeleton tree, and the birds that visited their roof tops in search for seed.

 

On the eve of their journey from the Valley, Junhong had lay in the light of the setting sun with Jongup, sharing memories and thoughts between them.

 

“ _I've only seen the sea once.”_ Jongup had told him, a smile on his lips as they watched clouds drift across the sky, _“Himchan took me, the Autumn after we met.”_

 

“ _It's beautiful.”_ Junhong smiled in response, _“I miss it greatly. I wish you could come.”_

 

Jongup nodded his head in return, but both knew it could not happen. Even though there were no more bandages bound tightly around Jongup's middle, he was weaker than he had once been, and it would be weeks if not months until he regained his full strength. Though Junhong predicted it may be years before Himchan was prepared to have Jongup straying far from their city's golden walls.

 

Junhong's eyes were closed as he heard a heavy wooden door once again open, then shut and footsteps approached the bath, “You were quicker than I expected, Hyung.” He murmured through smiling lips. Fingers slipped gently through his hair and the Prince hummed in appreciation of the touch. He sucked in breaths that were deep and slow, feeling nails scratching over his scalp, behind his ear until they took hold of his hair once more, the grip tightening, the strands pulling. His brows knitted at the pain, his lips parted.

 

“Hyung-” He gasped aloud and opened his eyes. Across the room in their reflection he saw a figure donned in black, their face covered by a talchum mask twisted into a garish smile and then his head was pushed under.

 

On instinct, Junhong opened his mouth to gasp for breath, but his mouth was flooded with water. He couldn't scream, he couldn't breathe and he choked, spluttered, lungs burning all while the hand kept a tight grip on his hair, forcing him under and keeping him there. Arms began to grasp for purchase on the side of the bath and his legs kicked out in a desperate attempt to get himself up and out of the water that was drowning him. His eyes opened against the hot water, blood pounded in his ears as he watched lights flicker, stars dance across his vision as his body grew weaker and it became harder and harder to fight against the water filling his lungs, burning his eyes, throat, nose.

 

A loud crash came as the door was thrown open and suddenly the hand was gone from his hair, and another wrapped around his bicep to drag him back to the surface. He bent over the edge of the bath, coughing and wheezing as oxygen fought water out from his chest to spill through his lips and into the floor. Soon, voices were registering, hands were touching his face.

 

“Junhong? Junhong!” Youngjae's voice was frantic, his fingers patting his heat flushed cheek, urging a response.

 

“Send for the King! Now!” Daehyun was yelling from somewhere else, he sounded both nearby and distant.

 

Stars dissipated from his eyes, and Junhong saw the body across the room, lying in a pool of blood that seeped from the slit in his throat, and the stained blade in Daehyun's hand.

 

“Junhong can you hear me?” Youngjae asked, and finally the prince nodded, coughing again as his hand moved to touch those that held him steady, regaining control of his body.

 

“I-I-” Junhong tried, but his throat still hurt, he grimaced against the pain.

 

“It's okay, don't talk, it's alright. You're safe.” Youngjae said. He let go of one of Junhong's arms to push his wet hair from his face, “Come on, lets get you into something warm. Daehyun, close the door.”

 

“Youngjae-” Daehyun said, but the younger man shook his head.

 

“I said close it!” He snapped, and the soldier did as he said. Running footsteps approached from down the hall, and as a crowd began to gather outside, Youngjae gently wrapped Junhong's form, naked and shivering, in a cotton bath sheet.

 

“He...” Junhong tried, his eyes fixed on the body on the ground.

 

“Is dead.” Daehyun replied, “You're safe.”

 

The two lead Junhong carefully from the room and through the connecting door to the bedchamber, where they helped him into the bed to be warmed up again.

 

“What's going on?” Jonghwan's voice could be heard as he pushed through the crowd, “What happened?”

 

Daehyun moved to the door and pulled it open to face their trusted military companion, but before he could allow the man entry into the private chamber, the crowds were parting to allow Lord Yun and the King through, Yongguk's face twisted in what appeared to be anger, but what Daehyun knew to be fear. Lord Baek and General Kim were not far behind, their hands resting upon the hilts of their weapons.

 

“Junhong?” Yongguk said, stepping into the room and seeing his Prince laying back on their bed, eyes blinking slowly, face flushed red as his breaths continued unsteadily. Both Lords and Generals alike followed them inside, and the door was closed heavily behind them.

 

“Hyung...” Junhong's lips twitched into the ghost of a smile, his hand reaching out to him.

 

“What happened?” Yongguk snapped, turning his head to Daehyun before he could even take place at his lover's side, “Where were you?”

 

“Hyung, I turned my head for one moment, he must have come from the bedchamber-” Daehyun tried, only for the King's anger to flare.

 

“One moment was all it took for him to be almost killed!” He said, voice raising, “If he had drowned, Daehyun, it would be your head on a spike.”

 

Junhong saw the way Youngjae winced at that, his arms folding tightly across his chest as Yongguk sat down at Junhong's side. His cool palm pressed to the heat of Junhong's forehead, and the younger man shivered, “Who was he?”

 

“I don't know. I did not recognise him.” Youngjae said, glancing to Daehyun, then Jonghwan.

 

“I'll have his body looked at.” Lord Yun said, his gazed fixed on the Prince and his face morphed into an expression of shock, and horror, “I will have whoever did this punished, Your Majesty.”

 

Yongguk turned his head with a clenched jaw, preparing to have the fire of his anger unleashed once more when Junhong's hand lifted to touch his cheek, then slide back to his hair. Gently, he stroked the pad of his thumb along the curve of his ear, down once more to the lobe and smiled, “Hyung...” He murmured again, voice weak and eyes tired.

 

Some of the tension in Yongguk's shoulders softened, but not by much, “Tomorrow we ride North, back to Huingol.” He said.

 

“Your Majesty, there are many towns and cities you have yet to-” Lord Baek started, his brows furrowed in protest.

 

“I will not continue on a journey that could leave my consort dead, Lord Baek. An attack on Junhong is an attack on the crown.” Yongguk snapped, turning his head, “We ride home.”

 

“I'll ride with you.” Kim Sungwon said, “My men will help guard you and your Prince, Your Majesty.”

 

“I shall, too.” Lord Baek conceded, “We shall ensure you all return to the Valley safe.”

 

“Send two men now to warn my brother of our return home, then we ride at dawn.” Yongguk said, dismissing them with a wave of his hand, “Now get out, all of you. Jonghwan, I want three of your best at the door all night.”

 

“I'll stand there myself, Your Majesty.” Jonghwan bowed his head. From across the room, Daehyun's eyes met Yongguk's and they exchanged in a dangerous stare until all with them slowly exited and the couple were left alone.

 

With a deep, calming breath, Yongguk stood from the bed and began to process of undressing himself, setting his clothing aside. Junhong watched the way his eyes burned as he kicked aside the cloths and fabrics, his fingers curling into his palm and his hand clenching into a tight fist.

 

“He's right.” Junhong said, “Lord Baek, I mean. We have so far left to travel, so many people and Lords we have to see.”

 

“I am not risking your safety.” Yongguk said, tone firm, “Not again.”

 

When the King drew back the covers from the bed, it was Junhong who opened his arms. It wasn't long before the Prince fell asleep, but Yongguk lay awake long into the night, with his ear pressed against the steady beat of his beloved's heart.

 

*

 

Youngjae walked swiftly through the halls of Kang's compound with his head bowed low. He had awoken hours before dawn and slipped easily free from the arms of his Southern love, to make sure their horses and belongings would be gathered in time for their departure whenever the King was ready. Soldiers were already preparing their saddles and feeding their steeds by the time he had arrived to the stables, most keen for the long journey home. He knew many of them had gone too long without the tender touch of their wives, nor the doting eyes of their children, he couldn't blame them in their eagerness, he felt the same.

 

As the sun rose, he made it back into the complex to ensure a morning meal was being prepared by those servants they brought with them from the North, an extra measure to ensure that nothing unwanted would be slipped into their food. He had not felt this fearful before on their journey, but now as he stepped through the grey halls, he did not think himself capable of trusting anyone he did not know.

 

Through the open windows, the first light was spilling from behind clouds and Youngjae stepped over to one and gazed out. From there, above the building's courtyard he could see over Kang's streets and to the forest beyond, broad and dark and still. On a clear day one must even be able to see the sea from there, glittering in the very distance, but the clouds hung too low that day. Down below, horses were snorting and their hooves were clacking against the stone floor, and Youngjae could see a figure, dressed in the leather and black of a Southern soldier and speaking to another already sitting astride a horse. He did not have a chance of hearing the words which they spoke, but he watched as the figure rose a hand to offer a document to the other, folded and sealed. The man upon the horse took it in his palm and tucked it safely within the breastplate of his leather armour, bowing his head with respect and kicking his steed into movement.

 

As the horseman rode away, the figure turned his head and Youngjae stepped aside just in time to not be seen. With his heart racing in his chest, Youngjae pressed his back into the wall, just as Kim Sungwon slipped silently again into the stable.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One definition, a [Talchum mask is a traditional Korean theatrical mask](http://www.korea.net/upload/content/editImage/141202_Korea_traditional_tal_12.jpg), similar to the Japanese Kabuki mask. They're worn during traditional Korean Theatre and dance performances.


	4. Chapter 4

When Junhong awoke, he thought he was alone. The bed beside him was cold, as though it had been a long while since another was there, and he buried his face further down into the covers. It was not often that Yongguk would leave him alone in bed, but on the rare occasion that he did Junhong knew only good reason would draw him from his beloved's side.

 

Slowly, the prince peeked open an eye. Across the room, through the window he could see the clouds that gathered across the sky and the birds that darted between them, he remembered that view well. For years he watched those birds as they dove through the air and he often wondered what it would be like to be one. Unrestrained, unknown, untouched. Sometimes he would close his eyes and imagine how it felt to fly, to just take off and float above the ocean, chasing the horizon until his wings gave out. Then he guessed he would fall, down down down into the ocean blue. It would be a terrifying way to die, but at least he would die free.

 

Footsteps echoed in the hall outside, and finally Junhong pushed himself to sit. His palm rubbed across his cheek and to his forehead, pushing his hair from his eyes and finally he noticed Moon Jonghwan seated in silence on the opposite side of the room.

 

“Good morning, Your Highness.” he said with a smile, keeping his voice soft. Junhong had liked the middle Moon brother from the day they had met. At first, with his furrowed brows and narrow face he seemed too serious, unfeeling, but when his rounded lips pulled into a smile, he had the same warmth and softness about him that Junhong so adored about Jongup, and he was kind to a fault.

 

“Morning.” Junhong yawned into his hand across his mouth and drew his covers up tighter around him, concealing the naked skin they both knew was beneath, “Where's Yongguk-hyung?”

 

“With Lord Baek and General Kim. They wished to go over the route for the ride back to Huingol while Daehyun and Youngjae ready everything else. He wished for me to stay in here to watch you, I hope you don't mind.” The soldier dipped his head respectfully.

 

“I know he's worried, thank you for giving him peace of mind.” Junhong sighed, “I fear he was too quick to send us home. There's still so much of the peninsula we haven't seen, so many more people waiting to meet him.”

 

“He would give it all up to keep you safe.” Jonghwan's expression was gentle.

 

“That's what frightens me.” Junhong replied.

 

“I must admit, I am relieved to be going home.” The middle Moon child said, leaning back in his chair.

 

“You must miss your brothers, and your mother.” Junhong empathised with that, it was hard being away from a family that missed you.

 

“You are right in that, but also I know how much safer it is there. For you, for the King, for us all really.” His lips pursed in thought for a brief moment, then his palms pressed together in front of him, “I spoke to Baek and Yun this morning, Kim too. All three of them have seen the body and claim not to recognise him.”

 

“You don't trust them?” Junhong looked down into his lap, where the sheets and blankets were pooled together. He picked at a stray thread gently, watching as it pulled from its place, unravelling bit by bit as Jonghwan continued.

 

“In regards to your safety, I don't trust anyone. Servants knew that a bath was being drawn for the King, it is possible the assassin entered that chamber with the intention of drowning Yongguk. It is also a possibility that whoever he was knew Yongguk had left you alone in there. At this stage it's impossible to know, Junhong, but somebody sent him to kill, and until we know who that somebody is, Huingol is the only place safe enough.”

 

A soft sigh passed through Junhong's lips, and he nodded his head. Jonghwan wasn't a fool, nor was he about to take any risks in regards to another's safety and Junhong knew he was grateful, but he couldn't help but feel like they were making a mistake.

 

“Please turn around.” Junhong said, his fingers curving into the soft blankets and drawing them away from his naked skin. The soldier nodded once and stood to turn his back to the Prince, averting his gaze while the younger rose and dressed in the plain robes he would travel in that day. It would probably take them days to travel back to Huingol, even if they were to take the most direct route. The roads wound through towering silver mountains and over rolling green hills with fields of pasture dotted in between, it was not an easy ride back to their Valley home, but it had to be done.

 

Once Junhong had gathered the last of his things, Jonghwan escorted him through the building's twisting grey halls, left, right, then left again to the long corridor that would take them towards the great hall. Below them, carts were rattling along stone floors and horses were whinnying as they stood saddled and waiting to embark once again on their journey. The morning air was cold on Junhong's face when he stepped outside and into the courtyard. Yeona stood waiting beside Yongguk's copper stallion and the King extended his hand out to beckon him near.

 

They rode out and into the mist and left the city behind them, fading between trees whose leaves hung heavy with morning dew. Junhong turned his head and looked back over his shoulder, to where the King's flag hung from open windows, billowing in the morning wind. The last time Junhong rode from Kang, he memorised the city's menacing façade in thought he would never see it again, but that morning he turned his back. He had no need to remember silver brick and grey roofs, when he had found home in a Palace made of gold.

 

Lord Baek rode to the King's left, General Kim to Junhong's right and their horses fell into step together, encased in the silence of a dreaming forest. A string of soldiers followed on behind them, their armour clinking together as they rocked upon their steed's backs, unspeaking. He had tried to learn their names over their weeks of travel as he listened to them talking around the fire, but he doubted any would befriend him. They were too afraid of their King to allow that.

 

As the first light blossomed into dawn, the mist cleared and the forest opened up around them. Junhong turned and looked beyond Youngjae between the trees, where soft lilac flowers bloomed in the grass, and a family of deer fed. Their teeth dug into the green and ripped it up from its roots, sucking out the sweetened water between their lips. The stag lifted his head to watch them pass with his antlers reaching high above his head. A magnificent creature he truly was, with strong muscled legs and proud shoulders.

 

“He looks like you.” Junhong said over the rhythm of hooves and those around him turned back to watch the herd as they passed. Yongguk's lips curved into a smile as they rode on and while young fawns played, the stag watched them go.

 

Around them the trees were growing sparse, the clearings between growing wider until the forest fell away and was replaced by open fields of summer crop. The wind blew over browning stems of grain and they swayed like ocean waves caught in an irregular tide, glimmering gold in the morning light. Flowers that bloomed in Spring had already fallen and scattered their seeds over the earth, to take and grow and offer new wealth before the Autumn harvest, and the inevitable coming of winter chill. It was sad to Junhong, how the world would come back to life only to die all over again in the push and pull of the season's rhythm.

 

Through forest and between mountains, the road carried them. Farmers and workers would stop in their fields to see them pass, only some recognising the symbol of their King stitched onto leather saddles worth more than their year's yield of crop. A town rose up from the relentless plain, neither foreign nor familiar in its structure and as their horses crossed over the border into the village a bell rang out, and a man called down, “The King! The King is here!” Children raced from their homes and ran barefoot behind the horses, dwarfed by their size. Their little legs could hardly keep up, but still they called and laughed between them, mesmerised by their visitors from the far off Capital. One girl, a little older than the others made it up alongside Yongguk's stallion and held flowers up towards him, yellow and pink and powder blue. He took them with a smile and a dip of his head and she stopped running with her toes in the mud while soldiers guided their steeds around her, hooves clipping stone in time with the cicada song.

 

Junhong turned his head and looked over his shoulder as the town once again faded into nothing behind them, along with its people and its history and they continued on, maybe never to return. Once upon a time he had been like those children, like that little girl, nothing more than simple village folk, excited by the coming of City dwellers and destined to follow in the trade of his father, to marry a girl from the other side of town from a family his parents deemed enough for his financial worth, but no more than his social standing. Maybe by that Summer his brother would have been married, maybe by the coming winter Junhong would have been, too.

 

“Junhong?” Yongguk's voice pulled him from his thoughts, and he realised he had fallen behind. The King's stallion was still a little way up the road, his head turned back towards his lover. Daehyun and Youngjae were watching him, too, as were the soldiers around them, but all Junhong could focus on was the way Yongguk's eyes understood, soft with kindness, warm with love and he smiled and nudged his heel gently into Yeona's side. It took him barely a moment to be with his King again, to feel his hand warm against his skin and he knew there was little use in thinking of what could have been.

 

On the first night they camped beside the river at Jeokshipja, on the second they were in the mountains. When dawn came again, they would embark through a pass and into the forest beyond, every step taking them further along the road and closer towards Huingol. The soldiers had ignited a bonfire outside, but they did not talk nor laugh as they had in the first weeks of their travel, instead they sat silent and alert, eyeing the darkness around them for anything less than trust worthy.

 

In the sanctity of the King's tent, Daehyun and Jonghwan stood protectively by their King as he sat on the blanketed floor and poured with Lord Baek and General Kim over a map of the peninsula, surveying their route. Junhong had wished to join them, but with their dinner warm in their bellies he had chosen instead to curl up with his eyes closed and his head resting against the King's lap. Low voices rumbled, but Junhong was hardly listening when instead he could focus on the gentle rhythm of Yongguk's fingers as they stroked through his hair, loosening knots and smoothing curls.

 

“If we ride fast we shall make it to the Valley by tomorrow night.” Lord Baek said, his brow furrowed in thought.

 

“We cannot make that kind of pace, not with the soldiers and the carts. They're too heavily loaded.” Yongguk said. He kept his voice soft so as not to disturb his love.

 

“Why don't we split up?” General Kim asked, rapping his fingers against the map. A slender index finger traced the roads painted in blue across fading parchment, “Your Majesty you can ride ahead at a quicker pace and make it back into the Valley by nightfall. I can hold back with your servants to ensure their safety.”

 

Fingers slipped free of Junhong's hair and traced lines across his jaw and throat, feather light and loving, “That sounds like a good plan, Your Majesty.” Jonghwan said from somewhere across the tent, “My men should have arrived in the Valley this morning at the latest, I know the Master General will be eagerly awaiting your return.”

 

“Fine.” Yongguk sighed, “But there is still a lot of ground to cover, make sure the horses are watered and fed, and the men have been well rested.”

 

A nail gently scratched just behind Junhong's ear and he exhaled a sigh, “Hyung...” He murmured into the silks in Yongguk's lap.

 

“Sleep, my jewel.” Yongguk hummed. There was a kind of heat that wrapped its way around Junhong when he was pressed in close to his King, like he was encased in a cocoon, safe and untouchable. Voices grew distant the longer he lay there, sounds and lights faded around him as the night grew deeper and darker.

 

Sleep took him as soon as his head pressed into the pillow, and waves crashed behind his eyes. He was standing on a beach, the wind in his hair, the sun on his face. It was warm there, familiar too, not quite home but near enough. Sand was slipping between his toes and he wriggled them, he liked the feeling of it, he always had. A child called to their mother from behind him and he turned his head back, his eyes searched between the wooden homes and down the winding roads. The village was small, only a few homes clustered around a single road leading down towards the beach, the water and the sky beyond. He wanted to turn around and go back to it, to find his mother, his father, his grandmother, but his feet carried him towards the sea and the boat that sat there between the sea and the land, its stern bobbing and its port grounded.

 

“ _Junhong!”_ His brother's voice called to him from there, by the tide, he waved his hand and beckoned him down alongside it. Junseo stood with his feet in the water and rope in his hand, smile slanted like a waxing moon, _“We have to go before the tide's gone.”_ He said, and together they pushed.

 

Junseo leapt into her body and took hold of the tiller so the rudder stayed steady. Junhong's toes were wet, then his feet, then ankles, then Junseo was grabbing hold of his wrist and pulling him on board. For a moment she rocked, then steadied and Junhong smiled. Junseo was a good sailor.

 

“ _Where are we going?”_ Junhong asked. His voiced seemed to echo in his ears, rattle around his head. Junseo looked at him, all soft eyes and tender heart. Their mother had always said he never quite loved anything like he loved his little brother, and Junhong saw it in his eyes.

 

“ _I heard old Grandma Shim saying the world has an edge. If you sail far enough you'll fall off, she says.”_ Junseo quirked an eyebrow.

 

“ _Hyung doesn't that sound dangerous?”_ Junhong frowned. He turned back towards the land, to the smoke that billowed from the chimney of the Shim house on the sea shore. From there he couldn't quite see their home, but he knew that it was there, tucked in behind Shim's, and beside the Jung's. Their mama would be starting dinner soon, when their Pa came in from the sea. She'd surely miss them.

 

“ _Aren't you interested in a little adventure, Jun?”_ Junseo smiled. His hand was warm when it touched Junhong's shoulder, but not enough to quell the nerves.

 

“ _Junseo-hyung, I'm scared.”_ The wind was whipping around them, but the waves were calm.

 

“ _I wouldn't let anything happen to you, little one.”_ Fingers ruffled through hair, a thumb rubbing against his cheekbone, _“I'll protect you this time.”_

 

When Junhong looked back again he couldn't see the village anymore, nor the sand or grass but he guessed it didn't matter. Nothing really did in the end.

 

Golden flowers swayed in the breeze and soft fingers brushed against them. The breeze was cool, and clouds billowed like castles in the sky. He closed his eyes against the sun as he walked, arms outstretched and humming a song under his breath. He didn't know how he knew it but the notes came together and fell from his lips like the most familiar thing. A hand closed around his and someone drew him in against a chest, his cheek found a shoulder, then his ear a heartbeat and he couldn't quite explain it, but it felt right. When Junhong opened his eyes it was to take in the sight of lips like his own, a nose perfectly arched, eyelashes soft and black and he smiled. He didn't quite know who it was, or why he was there, but his smile was like a never ending sunset and it felt to Junhong a lot like home.

 

Wind whistled through the rocky outcrop when Junhong woke up. Soft voices carried across the clearing, twisting together with the soft snorts and gentle whinnies of nearby horses taking their feed before they were to be saddled and readied for their final day of travel. In silence he stood and dressed, pressing his lips to the warmth of Yongguk's forehead and slipping free into the morning air. It was cold up there in the mountains, and he rubbed his hands together to keep his fingers warm as he stepped around their tent to look out over the world below.

 

Spread out before them was a stretch of plain and beyond that a forest. He could make out the shapes of towns and cities, tiny and insignificant in the distance and past them, on the very horizon he could just make out the sea. The surface was glittering in the first light while the sky above was pale yellow and soft blue, clear and open.

 

“Good morning, Your Highness.” Sungwon said from just behind him.

 

Junhong glanced over his shoulder and bowed his head once, “Good morning.” He said.

 

“You're awake early again.” The General said, “You seem to have a habit of wondering from camp in the mornings.”

 

“This may be the last I see of the sea for some time.” The Prince replied, arms folded across his chest to conserve warmth, “I wanted to say goodbye.”

 

The corner of Sungwon's lips twitched into a smile and he followed Junhong's gaze out across the south. Above their heads dark clouds were gathering, but out there it was clear, bright and never ending.

 

“My uncle once told me that some believe if you sail far enough you'll fall off the edge.” Sungwon mused.

 

“My brother said the same.” Junhong looked down at the stone beneath his feet. A few pebbles lay shattered on the ground and from between them sprouted a small stem of grass, fighting for life on the side of the mountain, “He told me he wanted to find it with me one day.”

 

Sungwon's head turned and he glanced once more to the Prince, “How old was he?”

 

“He was eighteen when he died, he would have been nineteen by Summer's end.” Junhong nodded once then turned his head towards the sea again. From where they stood it seemed flat and smooth, like a fresh sheet spread over a mattress not yet touched or crumpled by languid bodies.

 

“My city looks over the sea.” Sungwon said, “It's built on a cliff, far in the southeast. I can't imagine living somewhere from which I couldn't watch the waves.”

 

“Sometimes it is good to have something to miss.” Junhong smiled, “I miss my family, and my village, and those are things I will never know again, but to miss the sea...” He breathed out through his nose, “There is always somewhere for me to return.”

 

Sungwon turned his head with eyes dark with thought. For a moment, he hesitated, watched the prince gazing out over the south and he slowly inched closer to where Junhong stood on the edge, until their bodies almost touched, “Your Highness-”

 

“Junhong?” Yongguk called and the General fell silent and immediately stepped back. Junhong turned his head and smiled as Yongguk rounded their tent and spied the southern men standing there, his brows furrowed in worry.

 

“I'm sorry for disappearing again, Hyung.” Junhong moved towards the elder man and melted into his arms.

 

“Come. We should eat, soon it shall be time to leave again.” They had grown so used to living in homes made of sticks and fabric and soon their camp was being dismantled and readied to be piled onto carts so they could disappear as though they had never been there at all.

 

On the third day, they descended from the mountains into the forest, their horses working hard to carry them faster and further, making it to the home stretch. At midday they ate in a forest clearing, gazing up at the mountains that surrounded the Valley, and by afternoon the rain began.

 

It started as a few stray drops, rapping on the leaves above their heads, hitting their skin, but it was not long until it developed into a steady downpour. Junhong drew his hood up over his head to protect his face, while the soldiers around them unfastened their shields from the back of their steed to hold them up for protection.

 

“We should stop!” Lord Baek called over the heavy pour, but Yongguk shook his head.

 

“The rain will pass!” he called back, “It's not much further until we shall be on the mountain road.”

 

The sun was trapped behind dark clouds and Junhong pressed in closer to Yeona's head as she pushed forward. He wished he could protect her eyes from the drops, but she bat her lashes against them and persevered, maybe she knew that her tired legs were finally carrying her home. Yongguk rode to his left, Youngjae to his right until a crash came from behind them. At first Junhong thought it was thunder, until he heard the shouts, the startled whinnies and the definite sound of metal on metal. He turned his head and saw them, men coming like ghosts through the trees with their swords raised and teeth bared and in the confusion, Junhong didn't even notice Yongguk was gone from his side until Jonghwan was there in his stead.

 

“Go!” He shouted as he drew his sword.

 

“But Yongguk!” Junhong shouted back, his knuckled white as he gripped the reins in his hands, clinging on to Yeona for dear life.

 

“I said go!” Jonghwan yelled again, “Go into the Valley, raise the alarm! Send for help!” With that, his hand came down hard on Yeona's rump, startling her into movement and she took off, Youngjae leading his own mare after them. The sound of metal on metal rang through the trees and Junhong closed his eyes and held on with faith that his mare wouldn't lead them astray.

 

Above them the sky was growing darker and the forest around them seemed to be closing in as dirt turned into mud and night advanced menacingly. Hooves thundered against the ground and branches whipped at his skin as they raced through the trees, trying to out run the wind, the rain, the ghosts that chased them. From the dark behind them, Junhong heard a whinny and he looked back over his shoulder to see two horsemen dressed in black with their swords raised hot in pursuit.

 

“Ha!” Youngjae shouted as he urged his mare on faster, squinting against the rain. A bolt of lightning lit up the forest in a flash of white, then sent them into darkness again just as thunder rolled, momentarily concealing the sound of advancing horses.

 

“Junhong, watch out!” Youngjae yelled. In his peripheral vision, Junhong saw white between the nearby trees and he felt panic rising, they were closing in and there was only so far Yeona could run like this. He tucked himself in closer against her, whispering frantic pleading words into her ear, if she could only keep up her pace just a little bit longer.

 

“Yeona please, please.” He panted, “Noeul, _please!”_

 

Suddenly, a white mare broke through the trees beside Junhong and with trembling fingers he grabbed for the knife strapped to his hip, gripping it as tight as he could without losing his hold on the reins and falling down to the muddy floor beneath them. Out of the corner of his eye, light glinted off metal and once more Junhong raised his head, ready to protect himself from the man who sat astride the lily white mare and loaded an arrow into his bow. In a sudden movement, the hooded soldier turned his head and drew back the bowstring, but instead of aiming towards Junhong, he turned in his saddle and released it into the trees behind them.

 

“Keep going!” The rider called, and when he turned again, Junhong took in the sight of full lips and crooked front teeth, an arched nose punctuated with a single mole and he smiled with overwhelming relief. Nari released a snort of exertion and once again, Jongup loaded his bow, “Keep going!” He shouted again.

 

A little way further down the road another horse, chestnut brown and strongly built, broke free from the trees. His saddle was dark brown and stitched with the insignia of Huingol and although the rider was donned all in black and barely visible through the storm, Junhong knew it was Himchan. The Master General rode with his sword drawn and continued to glance back over his shoulders as the three horses galloped up into the pass with Jongup riding hot on their heels, sending arrows singing through the air in his wake to fend off any unwanted followers as they crossed through the mountains and down into the Valley towards the golden walls of Huingol.

 

“Jongup!” Himchan called over his shoulder as he saw his lover falling behind, but Nari was quick and it took no less than a few seconds for Jongup to be riding at Junhong's side again, his full lips spread wide over crooked teeth.

 

“Hyung-” Junhong said aloud, glancing over his shoulder.

 

“Don't stop, Junhong-ah.” Himchan said, “We're almost there.”

 

Birds flew startled into the sky as the four horses ran through the forest and out into the open. Bells rung out from the city walls and the gate opened wide as their horses cantered through the streets, passing city people who watched them from open doorways and windows. Yeona did not slow until her hooves met with the paved city square and people were rushing out from the Palace to meet them. Junhong dropped to his feet as his companions did and servants came forth to take their horses towards the stables, while others came to their sides to protect their soaking bodies from the still pouring rain and lead them into the sanctuary of the palace.

 

Towels and blankets were brought around their forms with maids and servants fussing until Hwayah broke through, “Junhong? Prepare him a bath before he freezes!” She called instructions to maids and servants.

 

“Wait, Yongguk, we have to go and help Yongguk!” Junhong said, turning towards Himchan. He stood a little way off, Jongup at his side with his hair dripping water down onto his face.

 

“Junhong you're freezing, you can't possibly go back out.” Hwayah said, her hands holding his arms as he shivered before her. Men were gathering in the doorway, clerics, Generals, guards and soldiers alike. Some of their faces were familiar to Junhong, some of them he even deemed to be his friends.

 

“Junhong...” Himchan said, “In your presence, I am no longer leading this city. With Yongguk not here, Huingol looks to you.”

 

The Prince turned his head and looked at those who gathered around him, men and women who stood twice his age and three times his experience that now looked to him as their ruler. It had been many years since Junhong felt so much like a child. Not far beyond where Himchan stood Junhong caught sight of Moon Jongin watching him with his one gentle eye, “General Moon.” Junhong said.

 

“Yes, Your Highness?” Jongin stepped forward. When their eyes met Junhong swallowed but Jongin's expression was one of kindness and of trust and the curve of his smile gave Junhong the strength to stand straight once more.

 

“Gather your finest, as quickly as possible. You must ride out immediately.” He commanded. With a bow of his head, Jongin withdrew to muster his men and soon the sound of hooves against stone once more echoed through Huingol.

 

Junhong watched from the city wall as soldiers rode into the forest and he prayed to Noeul that they wouldn't be too late.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dramallama amirite? I hope you enjoyed the chapter, I am soooo excited to be back in Huingol finally where everything is a little more familiar! Plus all ou fave characters are back, Hwayah, Himup and a handful of others! (I am super excited for Jongin like omg I missed him???? I also missed Nari. All I miss is sibz and horses wtf)
> 
> As usual thank you so much for reading! x
> 
> [twitter](http://twitter.com/yonggukspelvis) || [tumblr](http://chngminxo.tumblr.com)


	5. Chapter 5

That night, Junhong didn't sleep. Hwayah had managed, through Junhong's protests, to get him dry and into warm silks to protect him from the chill wind the rain was bringing down from the mountains, but he refused her gentle urging for rest and bed. He could not relax long enough to close his eyes. One by one servants and generals faded away into the ever darkening halls of the golden capital and soon the Prince was left alone with only his closest friends at his side.

 

The four of them sat in silence in one of Yongguk's many libraries, tense and uncertain as they awaited the King's return. Junhong's back was pressed up against the rest of the large seat stationed behind the desk. It was funny to him, how the chair felt so huge beneath him when its form seemed to fit Yongguk so well.

 

“He'll be alright.” Himchan said. No one was sure who it was he was trying to reassure, himself or the others.

 

Junhong's head lifted and he looked towards the King's brother, his gaze glancing across his slanted eyes and perfectly pouted lips, the way his black hair fell across his face and his brows knitted together in worry. Jongup had slipped up behind him and rest his palm against the curve of his shoulder, then squeezing gently in silent support.

 

The soldier had been silent from the moment they stepped into the study, but Junhong knew his heart must be thundering in his chest. His brothers were out there, too.

 

“We're lucky you were in the woods.” Youngjae said, “I don't know what we'd have done if they caught up to us.”

 

“We rode out to meet you. Jonghwan's courier said to expect you either tonight or tomorrow. Yongguk and I used to do that, years ago when we were boys and our father travelled away. He always loved it when we came through the pass to greet him, I figured Yongguk would, too.” Himchan shook his head. His fingers were twisting together at his front, the knuckles white.

 

“I didn't even see how many there were.” Youngjae swallowed, his palm pressing to his forehead. He had been chewing on his nails all evening, and they were red and raw, the beds exposed. It must have been painful.

 

“I saw at least two after us.” Jongup said with a voice smooth as honey. He kept himself steady through anything, Junhong guessed it was why he had once been an elite soldier and he was always relieved to have him at his side.

 

“Were your shots accurate?” Youngjae asked.

 

“Of course.” Jongup replied.

 

“I thought you were one of them at first. Before I recognised Nari.” Junhong's thumb nail slotted between his teeth, he chewed on it, tore at it. He felt the cuticle rip at the side and pull out from his skin. The nail bent under the pressure until it too folded and gave out to leave jagged edges behind, and Junhong could taste the tang of blood at the very tip of his tongue. The hurt was distracting, he understood Youngjae then.

 

“I know. I saw the knife.” Jongup's lips curved into a smile, gentle and warm, much like Jonghwan's, “I'm glad my training could be of use.”

 

“You wouldn't say that, my diamond, if he'd come for you with the knife.” Himchan tried to joke, and Jongup cracked a small smile. Though Junhong knew Jongup would have managed to disarm him as easily as swatting aside a fly.

 

Outside a lark landed in the courtyard, its feet gripping on to the slender branch of the cherry tree that grew tall and silver by the running stream. Junhong turned his head to watch the way its beak parted and it began to sing, heralding the approach of dawn. The rain had eased at some point through the night, the young Prince couldn't quite remember when as the rumble of thunder had been easily drowned out by the pounding of his heart in his ears.

 

“Who has done this?” The youngest asked, his fingers curling around the arm rest of the ebony chair.

 

“I don't know.” Himchan replied, “But they will not get away with it.”

 

Across the room, the King's brother withdrew from the side of his treasured love to stand by the old chair. Gentle fingers brushed through Junhong's tangled hair and smoothed it away from his forehead. The pad of his thumb brushed across the top of his brow, then down over his temple, “I'm glad to have you home, little Prince.” Himchan smiled, and finally Junhong closed his eyes.

 

When the first light of the sun peered through the mountains, horses emerged from between forest trees and Huingol's bell rang out. Guards came from patrolling the city streets to line the road and assist the injured and exhausted men towards the palace, where servants and physicians rushed to meet them. With a heavy thud, the gates of Huingol swung closed and a line of soldiers took place behind it, hands and hearts ready to protect their city and their King.

 

As the injured were taken away, Yongguk shrugged off inquiring physicians and concerned clerics to enter the golden halls with Daehyun and the Moon brothers close at his side. The crowd that surrounded them parted, and Moon Jongin called ahead, “Make way for the King!”

 

Himchan heard the bells first, then all together the four friends in the Wangbojnamu library heard the approach of steady feet and the raising of voices. It was the resonant call of Jongin's voice that brought Junhong to his feet and racing towards the door, opening it just in time to see the approach of Yongguk and stepping aside to allow him in. It was like a weight was lifted from the room as the tired soldiers followed their King into the room, and all inside could finally breathe again.

 

“Yongguk.” Himchan said and Junhong watched the way the brothers embraced, arms tight around one another in greeting and relief, “Praise Noeul for your safety.”

 

Jonghwan and Jongin pressed their palms gently to Jongup's back and the younger smiled to both of them, while on the other side of the room Daehyun drew Youngjae into his arms. From first glance, Junhong noticed small cuts marring each of their skin, but none of them appeared to be injured any further than that. When Himchan and Yongguk parted, Junhong noticed a smear of blood across the King's cheek but the skin wasn't broken.

 

“I wish Noeul could be praised for the safety of all tonight...” He shook his head and stepped back.

 

“What took you so long?” Junhong asked. His voice was hard and it got caught in his throat, his heart still thudding in his chest.

 

Yongguk rubbed his hand across his forehead and fell back into the chair Junhong had abandoned only moments before, “They had both sides of the road blocked, so we split up and into the trees. Bit by bit we made it through the pass and rallied again by the lake to wait for the others.” He glanced towards Jongin, “Five men did not live to see the Valley again, but if it were not for General Moon the number of dead would be much higher.”

 

“Who would do this, who sent those men.” Youngjae began, just as Yongguk's eyelids fluttered. He was exhausted, they all were now that the adrenaline was fading from their veins and their loved ones were back home.

 

“I don't know, but they knew we would be riding through those woods.” Yongguk said, “Someone must send word to Yejin. I want her in Huingol where I know her and Yongnam will be safe. Lord Kil will be a vital asset to us at this time, he is a strong ally and a good friend.”

 

“I'll send someone.” Jonghwan nodded his head.

 

“What of Lord Baek and the other man he was with?” Himchan asked.

 

“He arrived with us. None of his men were killed, but he appears badly shaken. Physicians were tending to him last I saw.” Yongguk nodded, “We shall need to provide him a place to stay and to ensure his comfort in the city. I also want more guards stationed on the walls and at the city's perimeter.”

 

“As you wish, Your Majesty.” Jongin bowed his head.

 

“I also anticipate the remainder of our journeymen shall arrive tomorrow with General Kim. There are soldiers with them, but there may not be enough in case those foreign troops still linger between the trees.” Yongguk continued.

 

“I shall send some of my men into the forest, Your Majesty, to ensure they arrive home safely.” Jongin offered.

 

“Enough of this.” Junhong shook his head with dark eyes worried and lips twisting, “Please, Hyung, now isn't the time for politics and planning.”

 

“Junhong-” Yongguk began, but Junhong cut him off.

 

“I said enough.” He turned towards the King, “You need to rest. I want everyone out.”

 

At first, there was hesitation by those who surrounded their King, until Himchan's eyes softened, “He is right. We all need rest.” The palm of his hand pressed to the small of Jongup's back, and gently he steered his lover towards the door, the elder Moon brothers following close behind. With little urging, Youngjae drew Daehyun with him as well, leaving the royal couple alone in the study. Soft dawn light was coming in from the courtyard, and already cicadas were humming in the trees around them.

 

“These are things that need to be discussed, Junhong.” Yongguk said as he pushed himself again to stand. His palm pressed to his forehead, brushed back through his hair. Junhong knew the clothing he wore would still be wet and filthy from the night riding in the storm.

 

“You could have died.” The Prince snapped, turning his eyes towards his love.

 

“But I did not.” Yongguk said back.

 

“I should have stayed to help you.” Junhong shook his head, only to see Yongguk's eyes flash with frustration. The King took a step forward and rounded the desk to where Junhong was standing, his heart still thumping, his face flushed red.

 

“You have been in enough danger. I will now allow you to be placed in any more!” The King said, voice stern.

 

“Stop behaving as though my life is of more worth than yours!” Junhong said, stepping forward himself to stand face to face with his King, voice raising again, “You are the King! I am nothing, and sending me out of that forest while you stayed to fight did more than put you in danger. It put the future of the peninsula in jeopardy!”

 

“The peninsula would survive without the life of another King, but I would not survive the loss of you!” Yongguk bit back at him, their faces mere inches apart. Fire was stoked in their gazes as they stood chest to chest, and as words failed him, Junhong lifted his hand to take hold of the King's face and draw him into the heat of a kiss.

 

Yongguk growled into Junhong's mouth and lifted one hand to tangle back into his Prince's hair, while the other drew him in close to secure the man's smaller body against his own. They tilted their heads, lips parted to share in heat and passion and the desperation they both had to see one another again. Hands did not take long before they began to wonder, starting with fingers sliding against a throat, then back to a nape. Junhong pushed Yongguk's damp hair from his eyes and took hold of it tight in his grip as their lips parted and Yongguk began to trail hungry kisses down the length of Junhong's throat, following where his fingers had just been.

 

The fire of anger was soon overwhelmed by the flames of their need and Junhong released Yongguk to instead move his hands down and to begin working on the knotted ties of his rain drenched robe, caked with mud and clinging to his skin. With panted breaths, the elder man pulled back from him and watched as nimble fingers made easy work of his clothing and pushed his robes from his arms, soon following with the soft cotton of the under shirt below to reveal the even flesh worshipped many times by Junhong's hands and lips. Across his side and along his ribs, dark bruising was swelling just beneath the skin, the work of a strong weapon colliding with him, though it didn't break the flesh.

 

“Hyung...” Junhong frowned as his palm brushed over against it, eliciting a hiss of pain from his King. Under his touch, the skin twitched and Junhong dropped down to kneel at Yongguk's feet, where lips and tongue met the swell of a breast and journeyed south, across planes of skin peppered with goosebumps and to the purple and blue mapped into him, tasting rain and sweat and the man he so loved. Junhong's hands held tight onto Yongguk's hips as he kissed down between his ribs, tracing the rim of his navel with the tip of his tongue and approaching the swell of him through the silk pants still clinging to his legs. They were easily undone, pushed down and cast aside and Junhong took in the sight of him, naked and in need and so desperate for love.

 

Together they stumbled back until Yongguk's spine met the heavy door and he arched into the warmth of Junhong's giving mouth as the Prince swallowed him down. Fingers were pressing into strong thighs as they tensed, while the King tipped his head back to gasp for the breath his lover was knocking from his lungs with every stroke of his tongue and lips, eager in their efforts to pleasure him.

 

To an untrained ear, it sounded as though Yongguk was praying as his hips rocked gently, seeking pleasure and completion until he grasped a hold of his self control that came to close to slipping away completely. With tender care, he used his strong hands in Junhong's hair to guide him back, his eyes gazing down at his flushed face and swollen lips and all he wanted was to have him, to feel him, for them to finally become one. Guiding hands drew the prince again to his feet and mouths met once more as piece by piece Junhong stripped to be as naked as his loving King, with hips rutting for something, anything to breach his body. Yongguk's fingers slipped into his mouth then trailed down between them to tease the bud of a swollen brown nipple that peaked in the cool morning air, “Please.” The Prince breathed, as lips and a tongue followed the teasing digits to nibble and suck, “Please...”

 

Yongguk took mercy upon his begging love and dropped his hand between trembling thighs to begin the task of working Junhong open. It had always been a favourite part to the King, watching how his lover would tremble in his arms as his need grew greater, his voice louder as they got closer and closer to what both of them needed most. Sometimes Yongguk would press his fingers in just right to have Junhong purring for him, other times he would beg, but there in the study all he did was whimper and gasp as one finger, then two teased his body open and left him yearning for more.

 

Slender arms lifted and wound their way around Yongguk's neck to hold onto him tightly as desperate moans and gasps filled the air between them. Junhong's head was tilting back, and Yongguk took the opportunity to lean into him and drag his fill lips over his throat once more to kiss and bite at the skin, leaving behind red welts then soothed with the press of a tongue.

 

Outside morning birds were singing and the wind was rustling through the trees, the swaying branches causing light and shadow to dance across the exposed skin wrapped lovingly in the warmth of Yongguk's arms. He watched mesmerised as Junhong was penetrated, taking in the way his lips parted and his eyes closed that little bit tighter as a leg hitched up over his uninjured hip to hold on to him.

 

“Junhong...” Yongguk breathed, “Junhong look at me.”

 

Dark eyes fluttered open, dazed and wet and glossy with need. His cheeks were flushed and his lips swollen and where once Yongguk may have seen debauchery, all he knew was divinity. The door thudded with every rhythmic push of hips, twining with the gasps of pleasure and the filthy smack of skin on skin. Ecstasy chased them both in a blaze of light and Junhong's nails dug into the skin of Yongguk's shoulders, leaving behind tracks of red as he couldn't take the pleasure anymore. A cry of bliss was torn from his lips as waves crashed over him, then over Yongguk and with sweat slicked skin and panted breaths they were complete.

 

Junhong trembled in Yongguk's arms, whimpering at the overstimulation of being full of him. His head turned and eyes closed, but with a gentle palm to the warmth of his cheek, Yongguk turned him back and brought their foreheads together so that they could breathe each other in.

 

*

 

When Junhong awoke it was early afternoon. Soft sheets were wrapped around his naked skin and his head was pressed against the warmth of Yongguk's shoulder, his heartbeat steady beneath his ear. At first he fought against the sunlight, hiding his face in the crook of his lover's neck in an attempt to shut it out, but only earned himself the sound of a soft chuckle and the feather light brush of fingers along his spine.

 

“Good morning.” Yongguk murmured, the words whispered even though everyone else in Huingol must have already long since started their day.

 

“Good morning.” Junhong replied. This time, when he pressed in closer, Yongguk's arms tightened their hold on him as though neither of them could ever quite be close enough. The fingers that traced the arch of his spine lifted up to instead brush through his hair, around the curve of his ear, then rest against the back of his neck.

 

“Did you sleep well?” The King asked.

 

“Not enough.” Junhong answered, but he wouldn't search for more rest, not when the sun was high in the sky, and his stomach was grumbling in protest, “Did you?”

 

The Prince shifted to roll over and onto his stomach, from where he looked up at the King. Yongguk was smiling down at him with tired eyes of his own, “Not enough either, my love, but I'm relieved to be in our bed. In full privacy, too.”

 

“I'm just relieved I'm with you.” Junhong admitted and the King's smile grew sad, “I don't know what I would have done if I'd lost you.”

 

Fingers brushed again through his hair, then across his forehead and down his nose. Junhong's head tilted and he kissed the tips of them, smiled as they traced the shape of his lips, his cheekbones, his nose, his throat, “What you would have done if I had died, Junhong, is live. Your life would be long, and it would be full.” His voice was gentle, “You would have ruled the peninsula as the Steward King, with the support and guidance of my little brother until Yongnam was old enough to take the crown. You would still be young when you retired, beautiful as ever, and I am sure the young King would value your friendship and your knowledge. I imagine you would spend long days reading with Jongup, nights playing on your Gayageum and although the loss of me would hurt at first, the pain would heal, you would move on. Lords from all across the peninsula would send their sons to Huingol, I'm sure, hoping to claim your hand and your heart. Maybe one day you would fall for one of them, or maybe it would be a soldier, a stable boy, a cook who swept you off your feet and warmed your bed at night.”

 

Junhong turned his head, his lips twitching as emotion swelled within him, “I don't think I could survive in a world that does not have you in it.” He said, voice thick.

 

“I know.” Yongguk cooed down to him, rubbed the bone just behind his ear, “But you would. Then when you were old and grey, you would join me on Noeul's plain, and we'd be together again.”

 

“Stop...” The younger pressed forward, hiding his face again in the crook of Yongguk's neck, “Please stop.”

 

Lips pressed to his crown and arms wound around him tighter, “I'm sorry.”

 

“I don't want to think about that.” Junhong murmured, lips against skin. Yongguk's hands smoothed up and across his back from where they held him, tracing along the length of his spine from his neck to the swell of his rear. The curve of bones and quiver of flesh was familiar beneath Yongguk's fingers, but he never tired of exploring Junhong's body just as one never tired of staring at a painting. In either case, there was always something new to discover that only made the work of art more spectacular in its creation.

 

A soft rapping came at the door and Yongguk lifted his head to glance towards it. Automatically, his fingers grew firm against Junhong's skin, as though that alone would protect the boy from harm.

 

“Who's there?” The King asked, voice laden with distrust.

 

“Hwayah, Your Majesty.” A familiar face came, and the muscles that had tensed in Yongguk's body softened again.

 

“Come in.” He said as he drew the sheets to again cover the flesh exposed by his wondering hands. The door was pushed open and Hwayah stepped over the threshold, a tray of food balanced in her arms. In the corridor, an armed guard glanced over his shoulder and into the bedroom, then closed the door behind the Palace's Madame and left them again in privacy.

 

Junhong glanced over the mound of covers that obscured their bodies towards Hwayah as she set down the tray of food and began pottering about the room. First, she drew open the curtains that held the day's light at bay, next she smoothed her finger over the dusty windowsill with pursed lips as though its presence offended her.

 

“My oh my this room was not cleaned enough by the time you returned.” She said, glancing over towards the bed. Yongguk smiled as he watched her, emitting a soft chuckle as his fingers sunk again into Junhong's hair.

 

“I don't mind. A little dirt never hurt a King.” He said, “I am just relieved to be in this bed.”

 

“After weeks of sleeping in tents and forests, I'm sure you've grown accustomed to some grime here and there.” Hwayah hummed, straightening the bronze horse that sat upon the writing desk across the room, “But this palace is mine to care for, Yongguk-ah, and I will not have it left unclean. The King deserves the best.”

 

“As you say, it is your palace to care for, Ahjumma, I will not tell you otherwise.” Yongguk hummed, scratching behind Junhong's ear and eliciting a soft purr of appreciation.

 

“Yongguk-ah.” Hwayah sighed. She bent down and gathered the clothing they had haphazardly tossed onto the floor during their journey to bed the night before and began to neatly fold the silks, “I have not yet had the chance to tell you how much I missed you. Both of you.”

 

“I wish we could have brought you with us, Madame.” Junhong sighed, his tired eyes blinking lazily towards her.

 

“I do hope you enjoyed your travels, until your dreadful night in Kang.” Her expression grew more serious, and Junhong pressed in closer to the King at the memory, “speaking of such things, though, your brother is eager to see you this morning, Yongguk-ah. He missed you greatly as well.”

 

“I wish to speak with him, too.” Yongguk nodded, “Today I will need to meet with the Generals, Lord Baek too, but first I think both my love and I are in need of a bath.”

 

“Of course, my darlings.” Hwayah said, “Eat your breakfast, I'll send for one to be prepared.” She smiled to them both and walked again towards the door and allowed herself out.

 

It was Yongguk who urged Junhong to sit with a gentle nudge to his waist as he himself began to rise. The covers pooled in their laps and their sides pressed close as the King brought the tray of food over his lap, warm rice and vegetables, with sugared persimmons and fresh fruit at the side. His fingers moved through the air above the food, as though indecisive of what to choose first, until he finally chose the sweet persimmons and took hold of one between his thumb and forefinger. The fruit was offered first to Junhong, who glanced up towards Yongguk, then sunk his teeth into the sweet treat to tear it in half and savour its flavour. It was just as delicious as it had been months before, when he had first tasted it in the King's private library, one that had since been gifted to him to use as he pleased.

 

Yongguk popped the remaining half into his mouth and chewed slowly, his eyes shifting towards the windows and to the courtyard beyond. Water trickled like music into the small pond, but that morning no birds were gathered there, probably choosing to instead search for food between the trees of the surrounding forest.

 

“Hyung?” Junhong asked once he had swallowed his food and Yongguk glanced towards him, “What is the likelihood that we know them... The person who organised the attack last night.”

 

Again, fingers swam through the air in indecision until they landed on a silver knife. Junhong watched as Yongguk took hold of the blade's small hilt in his steady hand and pressed it against the rounded cheek of a brown and green fig. With little effort, the sharp edge sunk into the flesh, splitting it in half as sweet juices bled from the open wound. The knife fell again to the tray with a small clatter and Yongguk lifted half of the fig to Junhong's mouth, “I don't know.” He said, eyes trained on the way red lips parted and white teeth sunk into the fruit to pull it apart, “But yesterday General Kim was quick to suggest he break from our group to accompany the rest of our people, and it is very rare that I believe in coincidences.”

 

By midday the clouds parted and the sky above Huingol shone blue. Junhong and Yongguk both enjoyed the warmth of a scented bath together, then dressed and readied themselves to face the council of Lords, Ladies and Generals gathered in the Palace. They had been roused from their sleep through the night with fears for their King's safety, and now together stood exhausted and concerned before their designated seats that circled around the edge of the council room.

 

When Junhong and Yongguk entered, they were greeted with low bows from all around them, some offering their relief in words while others only smiled and relaxed.

 

“Thank the Gods for your presence, Your Majesty.” Lord Jung said, his palm rubbing just between his eyebrows.

 

“Your safety is a blessing.” Came General Shim, the young nephew of a Northern lord.

 

Yongguk waved them off with his hand and sat back in his throne, Junhong lowering himself down to his right. With the King seated, the others slowly began to lower themselves down in their chairs and Junhong surveyed them. Northern and southern lords alike made up the council, some old friends, others new alliances built from the rising affluence in what had once been regional areas. Sitting directly opposite them was Moon Jongin, his elbow resting against the armrest of his chair and his fingers pressed to his lips in thought as he waited for the meeting to begin, while four seats to his left sat Lord Baek. Seated to Yongguk's left was Himchan and standing behind him as always was Jongup. Junhong turned his head and noticed both Daehyun and Youngjae silently watching and then Yongguk began.

 

“Thank you all for joining me this afternoon.” He said, his lips curving into a tired smile, “I apologise, I know not many of you slept through the night, you must all be exhausted.” A rumble of voices echoed through the room until they were silenced with the twitching of their King's hand, “Within the walls of the southern city Kang, an attempt was made to take Prince Consort Junhong's life, and again last night in the forests south of the mountains another was made on my own.”

 

Junhong looked to Yongguk, considering the dark bruise across his stomach just above his hip. It must have been uncomfortable to sit. Lord Jung's lips were turned down into a deep frown, not too different from an expression Junhong had seen mirrored across his daughter's face in the months after Jongup's injury when she cared for the soldier through his fevers. Silver hair was hanging limp around the aging Lord's shoulders, and Junhong knew it would only be a few years until Eunhye was taking his seat on the council.

 

“I know that each one of you before me was shocked at the treason and treachery shown by Lord Kwon and his gutless brother, and the events of the past days have lead me to believe it was not a mere bluff when they spoke of others willing to join them in their fight against the crown.” Yongguk continued.

 

“Your Majesty I do not think the Kwon's so smart as to organise a rebellion against you.” Lady Geun said from her seat not far from Lord Jung, “They were blinded by jealousy and ambition that would only benefit _their_ cause. Who else would earn good from such behaviour?”

 

“Friendships between families stretch back centuries, My Lady. Do not underestimate how far some will go for loyalty.” General Park said, his leather armour rubbing together as he shifted in his seat to lean forward, “Everyone knows how the northern families plot amongst themselves. It wouldn't surprise me if there were traitors in this very room.”

 

“If anyone on this peninsula knows what is good for them they shall align their loyalty with the crown!” Lady Geun said back. Her lips were twisted in distaste as she looked across the circle and towards the Eastern General, “Northern families have been faithful to Huingol since we fought alongside Sekwan the Great in the war that founded this great city, and you would do well to respect such a history, fishboy brat.”

 

Through the open door came a servant boy who silently slipped behind the circle of chairs to whisper something in Daehyun's ear and the bodyguard nodded once. Junhong watched as the Southerner came closer and dipped his head to murmur to the King, “General Kim has arrived in the Palace.”

 

Yongguk nodded, turned his head again, “Bring him here.”

 

Around them still, Lords were arguing with Ladies and Generals were raising their voices. To their right, Lady Shin from the west coast was standing as General Park drew her into an argument, while to their left, Lady Geun was sharing fiery words with Lord Jung, his arms were frail as he pushed himself to stand, but his lungs still bellowed with the vitality of youth. From across the centre, Jongin's eyes met with Himchan's own, and the Master General nodded once.

 

“Enough.” Jongin said, voice firm. When Jongin smiled it held the same warmth and welcome that appeared on his brothers' faces, but as his lips turned down and brows furrowed in anger, the striking scar and milky white eye had him appearing terrible and all around him were quick to listen, “The accusation of treason is not something to be thrown around to anyone you dislike. If any present have reason to accuse a respectable Lord, Lady or General of such a thing, you cannot do so without cause.”

 

Footsteps approached from down the hall, and soon an armed guard was leading Sungwon into the room, his boots still muddy from the long ride the days before, and his hair falling from it's binds. Quickly, he bowed low in greeting to the King, and Junhong saw how his brows furrowed as he looked around the room.

 

“Lady Geun is known for her well trained swordsmen! It must have been _her_ sending someone after the blood of the Prince!” General Park said.

 

“Don't insult the King's intelligence with such ridiculous claims! ” Lady Geun snapped back, “The Kwon brothers were known allies of Kang! Why is it not a southerner you suspect!”

 

“The South has always stood by the King!” Lord Sun of the southwest snapped to her in retaliation to such a claim, “You Northern scum always think it is the South to blame!”

 

Names were being shouted across the room and Junhong lifted his hands to rub at his aching head until through the echo of anger and agenda, came one voice that had remained silent throughout, “Him.” Lord Baek said, rising to his feet. The shouting dimmed and heads turned to watch as the Southern lord pointed an accusatory finger to Kim Sungwon, who's eyes narrowed into a glare, “ _He_ knew that the Prince was alone in the bath chamber. _He_ knew that we rode ahead of the procession, he even offered himself to stay back!”

 

“What reason would I have to attack the King?” Sungwon said, his voice hard.

 

“Ambition? Revenge?” Lord Baek said, his eyes narrowing, “Lord Kang was your uncle, after all.”

 

Junhong's eyes snapped to the General and he watched as his spine grew rigid and his jaw clenched tight, “You bastard.”

 

“Guards!” Himchan called, and Sungwon's head turned towards the Master General.

 

“You can't be such a fool to believe this.” He ground the words through his teeth, stepping closer to the King's brother.

 

Junhong didn't hear Jongup withdrawing his blade, but he caught the glint of metal from the corner of his eye and soon the tip was pressed against the expanse of Sungwon's vulnerable neck, pressing in against the skin that protected his jugular vein, “I would not move an inch if I were you, General.” He said, voice even.

 

Four guards lunged forward and grabbed the General by his arms. He struggled as the men forced his arms behind his back and bound them together, “Take him to the wall.” Himchan commanded.

 

The warmth of Yongguk's hand brushed over Junhong's exposed forearm as the prince watched, lips parted, as Sungwon was dragged from the room. “I'll have your head for this.” The southerner bit with dark eyes to Lord Baek and then was pulled from sight.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So things and stuff
> 
> [I've made a character index for the series which can be found here.](http://chngminxo.tumblr.com/post/162165611434/tales-from-huingol-character-index) I know sometimes it can be confusing especially since there's like 85,000 characters and they span across three separate stories and it can be hard to see how they fit together, so I hope this helps and if there's anyone I've missed, or anyone you want to know about, let me know in the comments below or hit me up on [tumblr](http://chngminxo.tumblr.com) or [twitter.](http://twitter.com/yonggukspelvis)


	6. Chapter 6

Routine is a funny thing. It can be so easy to develop one, all by coincidences. Finding ones self working at certain times, resting at others, being here one hour, there the next all in a regular cycle. Yongguk remembered his father's routine from when he had been a boy, the way he would wake and eat, then travel between each of his studies and libraries, meeting with clerics at one time, generals at another, and it was only when he had ventured on his journey south that Yongguk realised he had one of his own. Living on horseback broke him from his every day rhythm, yet it took him less than a day back between the golden halls of Huingol for everything to fall once more into place.

 

That morning, the King had awoken between linen sheets with Junhong's bare body pressed to his side. Together they greeted the day with leisurely mouths and pleasuring hands, and bodies well known to one another, then drew apart to go their separate ways. He had watched as Junhong dressed his body in the soft silks of burgundy that had been made for him upon his arrival in Huingol what seemed to be a life time ago, then he himself dressed in indigo blue. With a kiss to his mouth, Junhong left him alone to go in search of food within the warmth of the kitchens and making promises of finding Himchan to ensure his safety, while Yongguk steered towards his studies to familiarise himself with all that had happened in the weeks past.

 

Yellowed paper was spread out before him, a brush was in his hand as he noted on parchment all he needed to remember. The numbers of live stock exchanged between two northern cities, the list of swords carried to the east. To his left was a plate long emptied of food, and to his right a pot of tea left to cool before he was able to drink it. It was his duty to remember these figures, to understand all the goings on across his Kingdom, but he could not prevent his mind from where it wandered through valleys and over plains down to the south where he had watched his lover bathe in the warmth of the summer sun. The sound of the flowing river had rushed through his ears as he watched the breeze raise the flesh on Junhong's naked back, sunwashed and soft, more beautiful than ever. He had taken that time to consider how their lives would be away from the capital with no crowns on their heads living as farmers or tradesmen or something else altogether. For a while he had wanted it, a simple life in the sun. He would work his body for hours between golden stems of grain, only to be welcomed home in the evenings by the arms of his beautiful love, safe and alone in their simple cottage. In his mind's eye he could see it, built between the fields and the forest with the sea not far away, and it was all he had ever dreamt of.

 

A drip of black ink fell from the tip of his saturated brush and blossomed against the parchment beneath him, drawing Yongguk's mind again to focus. He breathed through his nose and shook his head, how cliché for a King to dream of what a peasant has.

 

In the hall footsteps were approaching and his eyes lifted towards the door, expecting the knock that came seconds later, “Enter.” He called, setting his brush aside in its dish and rubbing his palm over his forehead.

 

The door swung open and Himchan stepped through, closing it once more behind him, “Tired?” He asked.

 

“Where's Junhong?” The King replied.

 

Amusement came across Himchan's face and he shook his head, “With Daehyun. Don't fret, brother, he is safe.”

 

Yongguk's shoulders relaxed and he nodded, leaning back in his chair, “I am tired.” He sighed, “It's been a long time since I allowed my own exhaustion to catch up to me.”

 

“Sleeping in your bed must be a relief.” Himchan drew a chair over and dropped down into it, stretching his legs ahead of him, “I know I said it before, but I missed you. It's been too long.”

 

A smile tugged at the edge of Yongguk's lips, “I missed you, too. If it weren't for Jongup's stomach I would have brought you both with me.”

 

“And what, left Huingol empty?” Himchan quirked an eyebrow.

 

“Yejin would have made a fine leader, your wife would have helped her well, too.” Yongguk nodded, “I'm glad it was you, however. I know Yejin wouldn't have liked living here for too long.”

 

“I would love to see Eunhye-yah seated on a throne. All your generals and lords would be trembling before her.” Himchan grinned.

 

“They already are.” the King replied. With his left hand he reached to grip the tea pot, pouring the liquid into the hand moulded cup that sat by its side. A pleased smile tugged at Yongguk's lips as he saw steam still rising from the drink, he had not left it too long. The elder glanced again towards his brother, “I'll call for someone to bring you a cup?”

 

“No thank you, brother.” Himchan shook his head. He shifted in his seat to meet his elbows with his knees and pressed his palms together, “I actually came to speak with you. Kim Sungwon is being held in a cell beneath the Eastern Wall until we find more... permanent accommodation for him, but he is still denying his involvement. He called Lord Baek a madman, then used some _very_ colourful language in reference to me.”

 

The King brought the clay cup to his lips and took a sip from it, savouring the taste of home. No where outside of their Valley walls had tea as perfect as that grown in Huingol. “It's good to know someone is putting you in your place.” He said and Himchan gave him a dry look.

 

“He's lucky I am a patient man.”

 

“You are many things, little brother, but patient is not one of them.” Yongguk said, glancing down at the tea leaves swishing across the bottom of his cup like seaweed caught in the tide, “What Kim Sungwon is being accused of is treason. Is it such a surprise that he denies it? Maybe he is hoping we doubt ourselves.”

 

“He hasn't told Jonghwan a thing of use.” Himchan made a face, lacing his fingers together.

 

“He knew Junhong was alone in the bath, just as he knew when it was we would be passing through the forest. He had time to plan the attacks, and he is the nephew of Kang who was a known friend of the Kwon family.” The King shook his head, “Youngjae witnessed him sending out a rider the morning we left, no doubt to inform those men of where to find us.”

 

“It was the Kwon's who took Kang's life.” Himchan said, “Why would he be working with them?”

 

“Seonmi may know.” Yongguk replied, twitching his fingers in thought.

 

“She never mentioned his name before.” Himchan frowned.

 

“She never mentioned anyone's name when asked.” Yongguk hummed. The drop of ink on his parchment had dried, its rounded edges perfectly defined against the white background into the petal-like stems of a blossoming flower, “But she may respond if a name is mentioned. She was a fool, blinded by jealousy and ambition, but she never desired violence like her father or her uncle. If this information is brought to her, she may offer something to prevent the further spilling of blood.”

 

A grimace twisted Himchan's lips and he looked to his brother with an expression of disgust, “I must go and speak with her, mustn't I.” He said.

 

Amusement pulled at the King's mouth, “I believe you must.”

 

“What cards the Gods have drawn for me.” Himchan said dramatically, but Yongguk knew he truly did not wish to speak to her. There was a history between Himchan and Seonmi's dislike for one another that far predated the Kwon brothers' treason.

 

“You'll live.” Yongguk shifted in his seat, “Visitors will be gathering in the Valley soon, members of the council from further afield. You'll have to get used to being nice to those you dislike.”

 

“Who?” Himchan blinked, “Is it wise to be taking visitors at this time?”

 

“They wish to restate their allegiance to the throne, it may be of use to have them here if someone _does_ intend to attack us.” Yongguk's fingers brushed across his lower lip, “Lord Yun is one of them, some from the Eastern coast. I've heard of four so far.”

 

Three quiet raps came against the door and both brothers turned their heads towards it “Enter.” called the King, and they watched as it was again pushed open and the elderly form of the Palace' lead physician stood before them.

 

His frail form bowed, his palms pressed together at his front, “Forgive my intrusion, Your Majesty.” He said with dark eyes that shifted towards Himchan, “Your Highness, I was due to meet with Moon Jongup at noon to assess his healing wounds, but he has not come to see me.”

 

The Prince sighed through his nose, “Is that so?” he asked, “I shall find him and send him to you. Thank you for telling me.”

 

“Your Highness.” The Physician bowed again, “Your Majesty.”

 

When he withdrew, Himchan glanced towards his brother, “He refuses to believe himself anything but invincible.” He said.

 

“I think he refuses to believe himself as fragile as you see him." Yongguk responded.

 

“I do not see him as fragile.”

 

“You see him as invaluable.” Yongguk said with understanding, “Go find him, his health is of great importance to more than just you.”

 

It had been years since the young soldier had found his way into their side of the palace, and Himchan knew it had been around the same time he had found his way into both the brother's hearts. He stood and straightened the casual robes he wore, lifting a hand to push stray hair from where it brushed over his forehead, “I shall come and see you again.” He said, “After I visit the wall.”

 

Yongguk waved a hand, “Take your time. I have much to go through here, and I assured Lord Baek I would meet with him this afternoon.”

 

“Later then, brother.” Himchan dipped his head and made it out through the door. Two heavily armed guards stood on either side of the library, a precaution Jonghwan and Jongin both encouraged their King to take. Himchan agreed, they couldn't be sure who was the target of the two attacks made over the past few days, and although it had been Junhong's head pushed under water, that didn't mean the King was safe.

 

The Palace was quiet that day. Fewer servants were making their rounds, instead replaced by larger numbers of soldiers patrolling the halls, their hands resting on sheathed swords, their eyes watching everyone who passed by. Each bowed their head to Himchan as he passed, but he did not slow to speak to anyone on his way through the familiar tangle of red washed corridors, glancing into rooms as he passed through. The kitchens were empty other than a few pottering cooks, while most libraries and studies were left barren. Even courtyards where often palace residents would take in the sun during the Summer months were void of life other than the few birds that came to drink from the small streams that flowed in the centre of each one.

 

Eventually, Himchan broke free of the palace and descended the golden steps that stretched out before it though instead of heading into the roads that made the arteries of the city, he veered left and into the central stables. Soldiers and stable hands alike tended to the city's mighty steeds as they stood grazing in their stalls, backs bare of saddles and legs weary from the long journey many of them had taken. He recognised some of them, Jonghwan's honey Colt, Daehyun's Stallion, even Youngjae's spotted Mare was taking her rest alongside them. A little further along, at the heart of the warm stable was a wide stall that housed Yeona, Nari in the stall to her left while the King's own steed stood to her right. The King's copper stallion's head was dipped into a feed bag, taking its full of the Valley's finest grain, reserved only to please the strong creatures they deemed more sacred than anything else their land could bare. Seated upon the brown slat fence, Himchan saw Jongup, while standing tall beside Yeona was Junhong, the two of them involved in deep discussion.

 

“Your Highness.” A stable hand bowed to Himchan, and the two boys lifted their heads, “Did you wish to take Honggyu out?”

 

“No thank you, Jaesun-ah.” Himchan said, his eyes meeting those of his diamond love, “I've found who I came in search of.”

 

“Is Hyung looking for me?” Junhong asked. His fingers were twisted into Yeona's raven mane, but she didn't seem to mind. She never did when it was Junhong at her side. Himchan used to think he would never see a horse connect to anyone the way Yeona had attached herself to Yongguk, it amazed him that a peasant boy from the south who had once been afraid of her powerful body had made himself so at home in the warmth of her heart.

 

“No. He thinks you're with Daehyun. As did I.” Himchan glanced to his own love.

 

“I told Daehyun to go and rest.” Jongup said, “He did not sleep last night.”

 

“You were due to meet the physician at noon.” Himchan reminded him, brow arched.

 

“Hyung I'm fine.” Jongup tipped his head to the side. Nari stepped closer and stretched her head over the fence to nudge her nose into her master's open hand. She released a soft snuff and a snort, her tail swishing as she parted her lips and nudged her teeth against his palm, bringing a smile to his mouth.

 

“Your stomach is still healing.” The Master General touched his hands to the beam, only a few inches from Jongup's thigh. The soldier glanced down at it and noticed the way the knuckles went white we he gripped on, “You rode hard last night, you pushed your body.”

 

Jongup pulled his hand back from where it was brushing across Nari's nose and instead touched it gently to Himchan's forearm, “Alright.” He said. Fingers brushed down over white and tense knuckles, and Himchan relaxed. Jongup had a habit of smoothing out his edges, like water running over stone.

 

“Junhong you should return to the Palace. Yongguk wouldn't like you here alone.” Himchan glanced to the young Prince. His head was resting against Yeona's withers as she dug her own nose into her feed bag, lashes fluttering as flies flew a little too close.

 

“Can't you stay with me?” He asked, “Honggyu would like to see you.”

 

“I can't.” Himchan said, “I have to visit the Eastern wall.”

 

Jongup stilled and glanced to his elder partner, his expression turning serious and Junhong blinked. He stood up straight and tilted his head, eyes darting between the two who had grown from babes to men in that city, and who knew every inch of golden stone, “What is at the Eastern wall?”

 

“Why must you go there?” Jongup asked, interrupting Junhong as he spoke.

 

“For Yongguk. An errand of sorts.” Himchan replied. He pulled his hand out from under Jongup's soothing fingers and glanced back at the stable hands around them. No one was paying them much mind.

 

“What is at the Eastern wall?” Junhong asked again.

 

“The Prison.” Jongup replied.

 

“I have to get going.” Himchan said, “You both should go back to the Palace.”

 

“Can I come with you?” Junhong asked, releasing Yeona to step closer to the elder man.

 

“Yongguk wouldn't like you being there.” Himchan pursed his lips, but Junhong responded with a slanted smile and bright eyes.

 

“Come on, Hyung! Where is your sense of adventure?”

 

*

 

The streets of Huingol were bustling with summer life. The city's inns were packed with visitors from all around, while the marketplace was filled with movement, men and women alike shouting their wares and bartering their prices, selling anything one could think of from food to clothing, to useless trinkets used only for decoration. Junhong walked close to Himchan's side, glancing around himself in wonder. It had been almost a year since the boy had arrived in Huingol, and yet never before had he been given a proper chance to explore its winding streets and tangled lanes.

 

“Your Highness!” A woman called as they made their way past and both Himchan and Junhong turned to bow their heads towards her, while two armed guards walked at either side of them.

 

Children were playing in the muddy puddles left by the storm two nights before, their laughter carrying as their mothers chased after them. They were scolded for getting their shoes dirty, but it didn't stop the smiles that spread across their sun flushed cheeks as they took in the light of summer.

 

“Your Highness, Your Highness!” A man called as they passed, “My fruit comes fresh from the orchards by the Southern wall, please take anything you wish!”

 

With a polite wave of his hand Himchan bowed his head, “Thank you, sir, but we must be on our way.”

 

“Prince Junhong!” A boy called after them, showing off his hand dyed silks. It was overwhelming in a way the South could never be, and Junhong felt dizzy from the people calling his name, the scent of freshly cooked street food twining with rain and mud across the ground of the city square.

 

Ahead of them a girl stopped in the middle of the road and proffered her hand out to him. She was dressed in brown cotton and her dark hair was a tangled mess tied haphazardly back from her face, while in her palm was a pebble, “Your Highness.” She said, pressing her hand forward, urging Junhong to take it.

 

With golden fingers the Southerner reached forward and plucked the smooth stone from her hand, it was heavy and still warm from her hold, and when he glanced down to it he noted the foal hand carved into its side, “Thank you.” He said, fingers wrapping around his treasure tight.

 

“Long live the King.” She replied.

 

The crowd around them seemed to swallow the girl whole like an advancing tide, and washed her away to be replaced by city people searching for a good deal, or tradesman looking for the same. Junhong heard people calling out to Himchan, praising his name, saying who they were. All of them had a son in the army or a daughter in the palace, they wanted special treatment, Junhong guessed, or just to be remembered.

 

“Southern silks!” One vendor called out, “Western gold!” Came another.

 

The ocean of people thickened until Junhong felt as though he were suffocating between their heat, sweat dampening the inside of his robes and the sun flushing his cheeks red. The shoulder of an elderly woman knocked his own and for a moment he stumbled, “Whore.” She muttered under her breath, but by the time Junhong turned towards her, she was gone. Another body in the crowds ebb and flow.

 

“Come on.” Himchan said, his hand gently pressing to the small of Junhong's back to lead him and their guard companions between nearby buildings and away from the main road. The roofs of the sturdy homes created shadow over their heads, and below their feet the ground was still wet. Little sun made it through the slate tiles and shadowed the alleyway in darkness as it stretched towards the towering shape of the Eastern wall before them. Bathed in sun-gold it looked warm and welcoming, but the sight of small barred windows built into its façade had discomfort crawling under Junhong's skin.

 

“I didn't know this place was here.” Junhong said. He glanced back over his shoulder, to the daylight they had left behind, and the life along with it.

 

“It isn't exactly advertised.” Himchan replied, “Not many people stray to this side of the city.”

 

“Do you come here often?” Junhong asked the elder man. Himchan turned to him with a gentle smile and shook his head, no.

 

“I travel to the practice fields not far away, but to the wall no. I used to come on occasion, but before I came last winter, it had been many years.”

 

Junhong turned back to the sight before them and his hand tightened around the pebble he still held. No birds were calling over head, he guessed they much preferred the lively streets behind them, where food would be dropped and forgotten for their hungry mouths to gather and feed on while sitting watch on the tile roofs.

 

“Why did you come here?” He glanced over towards Himchan. The elder man hesitated for a moment, as though needing to consider his response, then hummed.

 

“My aunt was imprisoned here, for most of my life.” He said.

 

For a moment Junhong was stunned into silence, his rosy lips parting and his brows raising towards his hair. It struck him then how little there was he knew about the palace, and the history of the two brothers he lived alongside.

 

With one look Himchan saw the expression on Junhong's face and he exhaled a chuckle, “Yongguk never told you?” The prince just shook his head dumbly, “She was a vile woman, but she was my father's sister. Treason or no, she was family.”

 

“She committed treason?” Junhong frowned.

 

“She was found guilty of that, yes.” Himchan nodded. He tilted his head to the side in thought, then continued, “As a child, Yongguk often got sick. I do not know the cause other than his body being more susceptible to such a thing. I believe it was why our father urged me into learning the art of war, while Yongguk took more to academia. During our ninth winter he was taken by a fever and for the first time we feared he may lose his life.

 

“I sat by his bed every day and prayed for him to wake up and for the fever to break, I even slept there most nights until our father prohibited it. He did not wish for me to follow the same fate and said that Yejin did not wish to become queen, so if Yongguk met Noeul, it would be me to take the throne one day. His sister was to have none of that though. She spoke with force of how the son of a whore should never become King.” Himchan emitted a chuckle, his brow quirking in apparent amusement, “I overheard them one day fighting. She called me an embarrassment of the family, an insult to our ancestors all the way back to Sekwan the Great himself and as soon as she uttered the wish that I had never been born, he named it as a threat on my life, and imprisoned her for it.”

 

“She wished for you to not exist, why did you visit her at all?” Junhong frowned. Together they stepped from the alleyway and into the light.

 

“Partly because I knew she loved me deep down, partly because my mother wished for me to.” Before them, strong wooden doors were pulled open, welcoming them into the powerful wall, “Partly because I wanted her to see that the son of a whore was still the son of the King.”

 

“Master General, Your Highness.” A man said in greeting to them both as he stepped from the opening in the wall, and Himchan turned towards him, “To what do we owe this honour?”

 

“I wish to speak to Kwon Seonmi.” Himchan said, and Junhong's eyes went wide.

 

*

 

If Junhong thought the streets of Huingol were a confusing tangle, they were nothing compared with the halls built inside the broad eastern wall. Staircases seemed to climb in every direction, while halls shot off all around him, leading to dark rooms with heavy doors and small barred windows for guards to peer in. To his relief, much of it seemed to be empty, but the ominous staircase leading down beneath their feet did not go unnoticed. A man dressed in black leather armour lead them from the city's daylight and up a flight of stone stairs, while the guards that had accompanied them from the Palace stood waiting outside.

 

“Lady Kwon doesn't take kindly to visitors.” The jailer said, keys brushing together with a disharmonious chime.

 

“Yes well I don't take to kindly to her.” Himchan said. His hand again touched Junhong's back, warm and reassuring, affectionate in a brotherly way Junhong had not experienced in years.

 

They were steered around bends and up stairs, until the ring of keys was unclipped from the jailer's belt and he inserted one into a heavy brown wooden door. With a twist and a click, the latch was lifted and through the opening Junhong saw Kwon Seonmi seated at the centre of a small room. It wasn't quite as Junhong had imagined it, there were no puddles on the floor or green slime growing from between jutted rocks. The cell was whitewashed and plain, with simple furniture placed against its walls, a table, a shelf, a small chest for possessions and of course a small bed built from what looked like offcuts of wood. Part of Junhong anticipated the Lady to emulate something evil, for her lips to be red as blood and her eyes ferocious, but dressed in simple black and grey cottons, she seemed softer than she had the winter before. Maybe she was just defeated.

 

“My, my, a bastard and a whore. To what do I owe this great honour?” The woman said, lips pursed and unimpressed. She made no move to stand from her wooden stool as she eyed them both from head to toe as they entered, and the door closed once more behind them.

 

“You should speak with more respect, Seonmi-ah.” Himchan said, “Very few of this Kingdom's citizens are lucky enough to earn a visit from _both_ Huingol's Princes.”

 

“You killed my uncle, and _he_ killed my father.” She said with nostrils flared, gesturing towards Junhong.

 

“Now now, you can't hold that so against us. They tried to kill us first.” Himchan leant back against the whitewashed stone, his arms folding over his chest.

 

“So what, have you come to gloat? Finally you've caused me more pain than I could have ever caused you. To gloat would be a cruel act, even for you.” She turned away and brushed pale fingers over the book set down in her lap. Junhong hadn't noticed it before, but it was old, worn with age and obviously read through many times.

 

“You think so little of me.” Himchan sighed.

 

“Oh is it an apology I've earned then? You saw over the death of my father, and you murdered my uncle in his prison cell, have you finally come to say sorry?” Seonmi bit and Junhong noticed how Himchan's nostrils flared.

 

“I would have cut your uncle into a thousand pieces while he still breathed if I had been awarded the time.” He said, “Do not flatter your name to think I consider his death anything worthy of an apology.”

 

Sun was filtering through a barred window that sat high on the wall. It was facing outwards, away from the city below them and into the mountains still dusted with blush coloured wild flowers and lush green grass. The view was a beautiful one, and a cruel reminder of a world Seonmi wouldn't see for many seasons.

 

Through clenched teeth Himchan spoke again, “Kim Sungwon. Name mean anything to you?”

 

“Kang's nephew? What of him?” Seonmi looked affronted by the name.

 

“He is being held in this very prison for treason, an apparent follower of your father's.” Himchan said, “I want you to tell me what you know.”

 

Seonmi scoffed and shook her head, “You think my father dealt with Southern Generals?” She spat, “Don't make me laugh.”  
  


“Your father and uncle both were known friends of Lord Kang, what is to say his nephew wasn't among their allies?” Himchan pushed.

 

“Because his mother was just as much of a whore as yours. She was meant to marry my uncle, until some Southern Lord had her on her back and by Summer's end she was pregnant.” Seonmi folded her arms, her face morphed with disgust as though she had been alive at the time. Sungwon had to be her senior by a few years at least, this would have happened long before her birth, or the birth of the royal brothers themselves, “She married him, of course. The only proper thing.”

 

Himchan's brows were furrowed in thought at this new revelation of fact, “And your uncle?”

 

“He didn't speak to her again, or her bastard son.” Seonmi let out a sound of amusement, “Honestly? I think he enjoyed killing Lord Kang. Maybe it caused _her_ close to the amount of pain that she had caused him.”

 

Junhong watched from across the room as the Lady turned her head towards the open window. A bird was perched on the sill, its tail twitching as its eyes focused on something on the ground far below. When it took flight, she released a melancholy sigh and Junhong too knew that feeling of imprisonment, and the desperate desire to fly.

 

“You truly are a vindictive family.” Himchan noted. He straightened up, Junhong figured he was done with whatever interrogation he required. Seonmi did not turn back to look at them, only dropping her gaze to the book nestled in the folds of her simple skirt, her fingers brushing over the front cover to wipe away something Junhong couldn't see.

 

As the Master General stepped towards the door again, the jailer on the other side rattled with the lock, preparing to allow them out into the dark halls of the Eastern wall.

 

“Himchan-” Seonmi tried and he turned his head to glance back expectantly, his hands resting on the doorknob. Her brows were knitted together, her lips parted as she thought through the words tangled in her mind then said, “I'm glad, you know... That Moon Jongup was okay. I never meant for anyone to get hurt, and I didn't know they would take things that far.”

 

Junhong saw Himchan's grip tightening and his knuckles turning white, but he didn't reply. The door to the cell swung closed with a sturdy _thud_ behind them and in silence both Princes, new and old, retraced their steps along twisting corridors and down steep stairs. With the afternoon sun warm on Junhong's face, he finally was able to breathe deep.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stuff and things and things and stuff. Thank you so much for reading! For anyone who is confused there is a [complete chapter index on my tumblr that goes through each character and their role within the Kingdom.](http://chngminxo.tumblr.com/post/162165611434/tales-from-huingol-character-index)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it! x
> 
> [twitter](http://twitter.com/yonggukspelvis) || [tumblr](http://chnminxo.tumblr.com)


	7. Chapter 7

When night descended on the Valley, the city of Huingol was illuminated in red and gold. Torches were held up against the stone houses, but few city folk made their way through the streets as they had in the months before. Under the light of the full moon, soldiers patrolled the streets, while city guards walked through the corridors of the grand Palace, and across the square spread out before it. Clerics and Gentry alike excused themselves early, while servants and maids stepped few and far between from their quarters and by midnight, the building seemed empty.

 

Junhong lay back on the soft mattress of his royal bed with eyes open and gazing up towards the cieling. The moon's pale light filtered through barely drawn blinds and spilled out across the floor, casting shadows on the walls and across Yongguk's sleeping face beside him. Since arriving in Huingol almost a year before, Junhong had managed to sleep with more ease than he had since he was a child, but that night the ability escaped him as thoughts and confusion rolled around his mind like boulders tumbling from a mountain to crash into the earth below.

 

He had not expected to come face to face with Kwon Seonmi again in his life, now all he could see when he closed his eyes was the sorrow that marred her beauty, and the way she clung to the book in her lap as though it were a life line. Those worn pages were probably the only possession she had left, after all of it was taken from her and her home gifted to another Lord for safekeeping. Junhong knew how that felt, to have a home ripped from his hands and to be left gathering fragments in the hopes there will be enough to piece together a memory. It saddened him to think of all the moments he had taken for granted, every smile he had forgotten, every time his mother or his father had told him they loved him and he had brushed it aside.

 

Beside Junhong, Yongguk shifted in his sleep. The Prince watched as his lips pressed together and his eyelids fluttered before he settled down and was still again, other than the steady rise and fall of his chest. There was something comforting about watching Yongguk sleep, the way he seemed so serene and calm, just as he was when he was awake. In the mornings, if Junhong awoke first he would roll onto his side to press his ear to the warmth of Yongguk's chest and listen to every beat of his heart. Early in the Summer the King had confessed he thought it was beating for Junhong, and sometimes Junhong wondered if he was enough.

 

Enough to deserve his love, enough to lose a kingdom for, enough to keep it beating.

 

With a gentle hand, Junhong brushed his palm across Yongguk's naked shoulder, then slipped his fingers along the length of his neck to where it met with his jaw, his chin, then his lips and nose. One by one, he counted Yongguk's eyelashes where their roots sprouted from his skin and grew like tree branches, laying over one another to create criss-crossed patterns in the moonlight against his cheeks. Years before, when he was a boy, Junhong would do the same with Junseo, their small bodies stretched out alongside one another in the small bed they shared for their whole lives.

 

Some days, Junhong had dressed in his brother's hand-me-down clothes and tried on his boots to stomp after him in the yard. Their mother would laugh as she watched, _“Look at our Junhongie, wanting to be just like his Hyung.”_

 

She never saw him at night, how after he awoke from a dream he timed his lungs to match his brother's breathing, or when he spent what seemed like hours trying to get their hearts to beat in sync. He never meant to wake Junseo up, but whenever he did, the elder boy would just smile at him and pull him close to tuck Junhong's head under his chin.

 

“ _Did you have a bad dream, little one?”_ Junseo would ask. Junhong didn't have to say anything, he just nodded and closed his eyes as fingers brushed back through his hair and Junseo murmured, _“There's nothing to be afraid of, Junnie. Nothing is going to harm you. I promise.”_ He always did sleep best on those nights, when he knew the biting teeth and sharp claws that filled his mind couldn't reach him. Junseo had always kept his promise, Junhong just wished he could have done the same.

 

A guard passed their bedchamber in the hall outside and Junhong once again turned his head towards the sound. The thoughts that kept Junhong awake were not those of Yongguk's twining lashes, nor Junseo's soothing words. Somewhere, across the city Sungwon was being held behind metal bars, and Junhong was sure he knew something. Whether it was something about his village, something about Kang or Kwon or whoever it was who attacked them, he didn't know, but he was going to find out.

 

Careful not to disturb the sleeping King, Junhong drew his body away and swung his legs over the edge of the bed to rise. He dressed his body in discarded robes he found laying over the nearby chair, white linen undergarments and the indigo robe worn that day by the King. Guards were stationed outside their bedchamber, an extra precaution after what had happened of late, so instead of emerging between them in the hall, he crossed the courtyard to step into the small room that in the winter before had been his bedchamber. The bed had been removed at the start of Summer and replaced with a comfortable couch he could lounge across, while a writing desk and shelf of his favourite books leant against the opposite wall. On the floor was a soft mat, complete with cushion seats and his Gayageum strapped away safe in its case, well in need of tuning by then.

 

The Prince held his breath as he crossed the room and listened to the sound of a Guard's approaching steps coming towards him, then passing him by and he slipped into the darkened hall. Red and golden lanterns were hooked against the walls to illuminate his way, and all Junhong could hear was the sound of his own breathing and the rhythmic pat of his slippered feet against the ground. Crossing the city without getting noticed would be easy, he was sure, but all eyes in the Palace were trained to recognise him, and he had little doubt anyone who crossed his path would gently guide him back to bed.

 

At the end of the hall, he met with the large bronze door that separated the King's quarters from the rest of the building's lavish halls. On the other side would be stationed two strong guards, armed with pikes and swords and eyes that bore into anyone who approached them without reason. Months before they had made Junhong feel afraid, but by then he had warmed to their presence, he knew they were there to protect his life. With strong hands, he pushed open the door and emerged between them, hearing the way their armour clinked as they straightened their stance.

 

“Your Highness.” One said, watching him.

 

“I'm just going to the kitchens.” Junhong replied with a dip of his head.

 

“One of us shall accompany you, Your Highness.” The other offered and he already took a step forward, only to be stopped by Junhong holding up one hand.

 

“No, no, please. I'd rather be alone, His Majesty knows.” He lied with a smile from over his shoulder. They hesitated, but he didn't stop for them and continued on his way through the halls and beyond the kitchens, leaving the guards behind as he passed by cleric's offices and the Palace' great hall. Those halls were left abandoned so late in the evenings, and soon he was breaking free onto the front steps.

 

Cool air washed over Junhong's face and he pulled his clothes tighter around him. Summer was growing late in the Valley, it would not be too much longer until the first frost was taking to the city squares and green grass early in the mornings, nor until the mountains around them were dusted with white. Without so much as a glance behind him, Junhong began towards the city below when he noticed figures standing shadowed ahead, their head dipping near in soft conversation.

 

“Yun arrived with his Madame not long after sun down.” a soldier said, and the figure he stood behind nodded. As he turned, Junhong noted the silhouette of a stump at the end of his left arm, Jongin.

 

“Good, the sooner all the guests arrive, the sooner we can close Huingol's gates.” he said, nodding his head. From the streets before them, a rattle of wheels against pavement echoed and Junhong watched as a cart emerged from between sleeping buildings, a lantern hanging at its front. Horses rode around it with soldiers seated astride, their faces eerily haunting as the white moonlight cast over them.

 

Jongin began to descend the steps just as the carriage door opened and a woman stepped free, her arms wrapped tightly around the sleeping form of her babe whose head tucked in by her neck to hide from the light.

 

“Your Highness.” Jongin greeted the Princess Yejin with a low bow and she smiled.

 

“General Moon, it is a great pleasure to see you again.” Her voice sounded tired, and Junhong realised that to arrive then they must have been travelling without rest since early afternoon, probably not long after the King's rider arrived in her home by the sea.

 

“Come, Your Highness. We've prepared a chamber for you all, you must be exhausted.” Jongin gestured up towards the towering building.

 

“Are my brothers asleep?” Yejin asked as Lord Kil joined her side, his arm slipping around her middle to draw her close.

 

“Yes, but they shall be eager to see you when dawn comes.” Junhong stepped back and ducked into the shadows where he couldn't be seen as the entourage passed him and into the Palace and servants guided their horses towards the stables. The door closed behind them with a definite thump and slowly he inched along the wall, rounding it and crashing straight into a sturdy form.

 

“Junhong?” Jonghwan's voice asked as the Prince stumbled back from him. The soldier's brows furrowed as he glanced around them, “Junhong what are you doing out this late? It's not safe for you at night.”

 

“I was going to the stables.” He lied, again.

 

Jonghwan's eyes softened and his lips twitched into a smile, “Couldn't sleep?” Junhong shook his head, no. Jonghwan's hand pressed gently and reassuringly to the centre of his back, “Jonguppie used to do that, you know, when he was a kid. If he couldn't sleep, he'd head out into the stables to be with his horse, Boyeon.”

 

Jongup had told Junhong about Boyeon months before, the colt he lost when his Father died. He had seen how adoration radiated from Jongup's very core when he was with Nari, none could deny the love he had for his beautiful Mare but Junhong couldn't imagine the pain of losing one's most trusted steed. With a glance over his shoulder to the city sleeping below them, Junhong allowed Jonghwan to guide him back into the warmth of the Palace.

 

“Yongguk wouldn't want you out here alone.” Junhong heard the apology in Jonghwan's voice and he offered the elder man half a smile.

 

“I know.” He breathed.

 

“I can sit with you... If you wish. Until you get tired?” The soldier rubbed at his cheek with the tips of his fingers, and pushed his hair back from his eyes but Junhong was already shaking his head.

 

“No, Hyung, you need rest just as much as I do.” He glanced back over his shoulder, to the city behind them and beyond towards the dark Eastern Wall before the door swung closed and they were safe in the warm glow of the illuminated corridor, “I should go back to bed. Before Yongguk-hyung wakes up.”

 

“I'll walk with you, then.” Jonghwan nodded. In silence Junhong retraced his steps back through the public halls, past the great hall and the sleeping kitchen to the large bronze door guarded by two strong forms who opened it and bowed him through. They weren't old, maybe the same age as Jongup or Youngjae, trained well from a young age to serve their purpose with heart and blade to protect the city. Junhong wondered if they had been scared when they signed up to their job, or if their deeper desire to fullfil their duty overpowered that.

 

“What did it feel like when you became a soldier?” Junhong asked, glancing back over his shoulder. The door behind them closed with a heavy thud and their footsteps echoed down the hall.

 

Jonghwan arched a brow at the question, then chuckled, “I don't know, I guess it felt like my duty. You know our father was a General, just as Jongin is now, and like Jongup and I were both supposed to be.”

 

“Do you feel at home with a sword in hand?” Junhong turned his head towards the elder.

 

“No.” Jonghwan said as they approached the guarded door to the King's bedchamber. His eyes surveyed the two men, silent and watchful as they stood gazing towards the opposite wall from where they stood, “I feel at home with my mother and my brothers, or my Mare, or with you and other friends. Anyone who believes their _home_ is a sword, is someone who should neither be trained nor trusted.”

 

Junhong's head tilted to the side and his lips quirked, there was something nice about the thought of Jonghwan considering his brothers home. He guessed he, too, had felt that way, years before tucked tight against Junseo's chest in their small cottage. The young prince nodded his head and turned towards his chamber, “Thank you, Jonghwan-hyung, for accompanying me.”

 

“It is a pleasure, Your Highness.” The middle Moon child said and he stood back to watch as his trained guards drew open the door and Junhong slipped inside.

 

Muffled voices filtered through the closed door as Jonghwan spoke with those stationed outside. They would change over soon and new soldiers would be stationed to protect them, all under the careful command of Jonghwan. Junhong thought the captain of the guard could station stable hands at their door, and he would still feel safe. He trusted Jonghwan enough.

 

Once more careful to maintain his silence, Junhong stripped down to be naked again and slid between soft linen sheets towards Yongguk's warmth. Climbing into bed with him felt like sliding in towards a fire in the depths of winter, as though the closer he got, the more he burned with scorching relief. A small smile tugged at his lips as he realised it was a familiar comfort from seasons far passed.

 

“Mmm...” Yongguk hummed softly and shifted closer. Warm arms encircled his body like licking flames and drew him closer, “Junhong, you feel cold...” His voice was deep with sleep and his eyes blinked drowsily towards Junhong, taking in the cold flush to his cheeks and the tip of his nose as he rubbed his palms across his arms to bring warmth to them.

 

“I stepped out for some air...” The younger whispered back. Gently, he brushed stray hairs back from Yongguk's forehead, then traced the curve of his hairline, down the side of his face to the slope of his cheekbones. The moonlight exaggerated his angles in all different ways, and Junhong couldn't say he minded.

 

“What's wrong?” Yongguk was more awake now and his face creased into a frown. The concern was so ernest upon his face as he blinked his eyes, as though attempting to trick them into thinking he was awake. Junhong could have told him the truth, he could have said that he had snuck away to face Sungwon alone in the dungeons beneath the eastern wall, but he didn't have the heart to, not then as his King licked his lower lip to dampen it in the cool air, or as his brows knitted tighter together with worry.

 

No, _then_ he lifted both hands to gently cradle Yongguk's warm face and he kissed him. The hands that had been just a moment ago rubbing across Junhong's arms to keep him warm gentle gripped onto him to draw him closer, not wanting the kiss to be broken as the King tipped his head into it lazily, welcoming Junhong in with parted lips. The Prince shifted against the elder man and brought their chests flush together as one hand slipped back into the mess of tangled black hair falling against Yongguk's nape. Gently, he tugged on the strands, relishing in the soft growl that rumbled like thunder from the King's chest and into his mouth to be swallowed down. Junhong felt as though Yongguk's sounds gave him strength, and he loved him like this, late at night when he didn't feel so restrained, and he let his hunger be known.

 

In a sharp movement, their bodies were shifted and Yongguk had Junhong sprawled beneath him on his back, the elder man fitting just right between his parted thighs. Tongues tasted teeth and lips while fingers pressed into flesh that trembled and quaked beneath searching hands growing hasty and eager. Junhong broke the kiss when he couldn't take it anymore, and his fingers gripped the sheets tightly as full lips travelled south, down his throat and across his sternum to close in around his nipples, brown and smooth and tightening under the attention of an adoring tongue. With his eyes closed, Junhong did not see Yongguk reaching blindly for the oil kept at the side of their bed, only hearing the clatter of pottery as it was nudged and shifted and the lid fell from it to rock against the wooden table.

 

Breathless laughter filtered from the prince but was cut off by another gasp as one skilled finger tenderly breached him, and one hand moved to grip on to Yongguk's hair. As Junhong arched, Yongguk moved with him in a practiced rhythm, pushing and pulling like an advancing tide and drawing forth the notes from Junhong's throat to have him singing his pleasure in a symphony of whimpers and gasps until his trembling muscle and panted breaths were begging Yongguk to complete him. Sweat slicked skin pressed together as slender fingers gripped and tugged at hair, the sheets, skin, anything they could sink into and hold on to ground them as the pleasure grew and burnt through their bodies. Where Yongguk, usually the silent lover, would bite his tongue to listen to Junhong, he let himself loose in a string of groans and grunts, growls and grinds until it all became too much and his lips and teeth took hold on the sensitive skin of Junhong's throat to leave a string of dark marks to bloom like flowers beneath his skin.

 

“Hyung...” Junhong gasped, his eyes rolling back into his head as rocking hips moved harder and faster into him, “Please, please...” One hand slipped into hair again, holding tight as he whimpered out pleading words as the heat inside of him grew stronger but the King only growled in response and curled his fingers around Junhong's wrist to pin it against the headboard above his head.

 

“With me...” He breathed into the younger's ear, “With me.”

 

“I love you.” Junhong turned his head again, fighting to keep his eyes open, to look Yongguk in the eye but oblivion caught him too soon and he was coming in a blaze of light. Yongguk's arms almost gave out when he followed, and soon they were pressed together, sweat slicked and panting with tired arms trying to figure out how they could draw one another impossibly closer.

 

“I love you, too.” Yongguk murmured against his throat, a little belated. Junhong smiled and brushed his fingers down the slope of his sweaty nape and moments later they were asleep.

 

Guards strode quietly through dark halls, patrolling for anyone foreign or unknown. They glanced into open doors as they passed them by, pausing at chambers housing those they would give their lives to protect. On the far side of the royal wing was another chamber, modest when compared to that which housed the King and his love, but comfortable the same. Light was spilling still beneath the door from where candles burned upon their holders and the occupants readied themselves for the rest they needed.

 

Daehyun's fingers gently slipped his sheathed knife from where it hung from his leather belt to place it at his bedside, where he had taken to keeping it of late. While Youngjae had gone about his tasks in the palace, the Southerner had been assuring their visitors safety on the other side of the building and with only a few more hours before sunrise, the lovers retired to their chambers.

 

“It doesn't add up.” Daehyun looked up at the sound of Youngjae's voice. He was seated at a desk across the room, sliding a comb through his hair that had been tied back from his face all day. Full pink lips were twisted into a frown as he stared into his reflection in a small mirror placed upon the desk.

 

“What doesn't?” The elder asked. With his belt loose, it was tossed aside, soon followed with his robes and undershirt, leaving him in nothing but the pants he wore beneath his uniform. Scars dotted across his tan and muscled torso, long since healed from wounds into faint patterns.

 

“Sungwon.” Youngjae said again. He turned in his seat and looked back to his lover, “Why would he go after Junhong? The _King_ I understand, any lord or General or anyone else could have a reason for attacking him, but Junhong...”

 

Daehyun's brow quirked, “He could he using him to get at Yongguk.”

 

Youngjae wasn't satisfied with that. He turned back to face his reflection again and resumed coming out the knots in his hair, mouth twisting in thought. The Southerner stepped quietly across the room and stopped behind his lover to gently take the comb from his hands and take over for him. Secretly, Daehyun always loved that, caring for Youngjae and pampering him just right.

 

“You and I both know that using Junhong is the easiest way to get to Hyung.” The elder hummed out, feeling the way Youngjae relaxed under his touches, “He was with Yongguk at the time, too. No one would have suspected him.”

 

“But _why._ ” Youngjae shook his head and Daehyun pulled back, not wanting to pull his hair, “If he was sending someone to attack them in the forest anyway, why send someone into that bathchamber?”

 

“The attack on Junhong sent us home.” Daehyun tried. He tossed the comb down onto the table and instead dipped his head, nudging his nose just below Youngjae's ear and ghosting his mouth to the side of his neck, “You saw Sungwon dispatching a messenger the morning we left.”

 

“I did...” The Northern servant said, but he still wasn't sure, “He knows something. I saw him when we visited Junhong's village, and at dinner that night in Kang. There is something he has not said... But I am not convinced it is treason.”

 

Gently, Daehyun drew back Youngjae's hair from his shoulder and nudged at the hem of his robe to slide down his bicep and expose more skin. Full lips parted against warm flesh and Daehyun pressed an open mouthed kiss to Youngjae's nape, “Worry of this later.” He murmured, “Come to bed with me.”

 

“The sun isn't far behind the mountains now. Is there even any worth to sleep for such little time?” The younger sighed and a shiver ran down his spine. Daehyun stepped back from him and kicked aside his pants, and he knew Youngjae watched him in the mirror.

 

“Come to bed.” he said again, lips twitching into a smile, “I shall give it worth.”

 

Only little coaxing was needed for Youngjae to stand and undress and follow his lover to bed, where they lost themselves in one another, and greeted the dawn with love.

 

*

 

By morning the city had returned to its normal bustle, and the palace had along with it. The halls were crowded with foreign visitors who had arrived through the day and night before, all gathering for the council meeting the King would call in the coming days. Soon after he had awoken, Yongguk had left Junhong to bathe alone so he could greet the new comers to the valley, then not long after, his consort joined him to pay respects of his own.

 

Junhong greeted Lords and Ladies with his warm smile and polite dips of his head, watching as some bowed low before him, and others kissed his hand, all saying words of praise and of relief that he had made it back into the Valley unharmed. Some of them he could name just from seeing their faces, others he had to be gently reminded by Yongguk's voice in his ear but he did not falter, even when Lord Yun entered the room with Cha Seoyoung at his side.

 

Thankfully, the day took mercy and the royal couple slipped away into one of the palace's courtyards, where they ate lunch with the Princess Yejin and her Western love bathed in the Summer sun. Junhong grinned as he chased Yongnam around, the young boy's smiles extending from ear to ear as his little legs carried him from side to side, just dodging the attempts Junhong feigned to catch him. Their laughter carried across the surrounding roofs like music to Yongguk's ears, and even as his sister spoke to him of the months past, he couldn't take his eyes away from the joy that radiated from his Southern love. When Yongnam's legs could no longer carry him, the young Prince took the boy into his lap and read him stories from across the peninsula, until his eyes closed and tucked in against Junhong's chest, he fell asleep.

 

Once the sun had faded and night fell, the great hall filled. Faces swum through the crowds and gathered around tables laden with food from the kitchens that worked tirelessly throughout the day to prepare an evening meal for all those who travelled from far and wide to sit with the King in Huingol's golden halls. Junhong had dressed in violet silks, hand stitched by the palace seamstresses and his hair was tied back neatly from his face, but unlike Yongguk no crown sat upon his head. He had taken his position seated to the right of his lavishly dressed King, squished between the tumbling silks of his crimson robe and the rigid form of Lord Baek whose fingers were curled around the body of his goblet and drink spilled from its edges.

 

“A beautiful babe you have, Your Highness.” The man said as he glanced across the King to where the Princess Yejin sat alongside her husband, Yongnam tiredly across her lap gazing with disinterest at his food.

 

“Thank you, My Lord.” She dipped her head in polite thanks.

 

“He looks far more alike your father than even you do.” Lord Baek noted and Himchan chuckled.

 

“I believe our father would note that a good thing.” Junhong watched as the Master General glanced fondly towards his older sister, “He always spoke his relief that Noona took more alike her mother than him.”

 

“Oh hush, Himchan.” Yejin smiled, bringing Yongnam closer to her chest as he whined out his tired dislike of the food around him.

 

“You know he is right, Noona.” Yongguk chuckled. Musicians had gathered by the wall not far off from them, strumming skilled fingers across the strings of their instruments. A young woman lay a gayageum across her lap, while a boy played the Tongsu along with her. Junhong dipped his head and focused on the plate before him, quietly gathering food to place it upon his tongue and savour the Valley's flavours.

 

“More drink, Your Highness?” A servant boy asked and Junhong shook his head.

 

“No thank you. I drink water tonight.” He turned back and offered the boy a smile. Junhong had seen him through the halls many times over the year passed, but had yet to be offered his name.

 

“Fill mine, boy!” Lord Baek said, lifting his goblet and impatiently awaiting the milky liquid to slosh down into his cup for what Junhong guessed had to be the fifth time that night.

 

“You are enjoying the Valley, Lord Baek.” Yongguk observed, noticing how Junhong leant away from their visitor and towards the folds of red between them. Gently, the King curved one arm around his beloved's hip, welcoming him close.

 

“Your Majesty is it not a night to celebrate?” Baek's voice was loud as he spoke, mouth full of rice and beans and washed down with Makgeolli, “Kim Sungwon is trapped behind bars! Finally you are safe from whatever treason he planned.”

 

“Kim Sungwon was a man of stature. I do not enjoy celebrating such a downfall.” Yongguk replied. Junhong's mouth twisted with discomfort as Lord Baek barked out a loud laugh and swished his alcohol around his goblet.

 

“Treason is treason, your majesty, and victory is victory. Tonight is not a night to show stoicism, it is a night to revel in your success and celebrate the removal of another obstacle!” The man slammed his empty cup down with a bang and laughed, “Unless you'd rather wait for him to be executed before you speak too soon?”

 

Junhong's eyes dropped down to Yongguk's hand where it sat beside his plate. The tips of his slender fingers brushed against the cool metal of his sujeo, while his palm was pressed firmly against the table, as though he were trying to hold himself back from something, but before the King could speak a word, the doors of the great hall were pulled open and two strong valley guards were dragging in the form of a young man, hands bound behind his back and a filthy cloth bag pulled over his head.

 

Moon Jonghwan was the first to move from where he stood behind the royal family, shoulder to shoulder with his younger brother and Daehyun, “What is the meaning of this?” He asked, hand settling on his sheathed knife as he looked to his guards with distaste.

 

“We found him sneaking in the forest.” One guard spoke. He was tall and strongly built and looked as though he would bust out of his confining uniform if he were to flex his muscles too far, “He claims to be a friend of Kim Sungwon.”  
  


Junhong's eyes snapped up as he heard the guard's words and his fingers curled into the folds of his robe. He did not notice Youngjae watching him from over his shoulder.

 

“Take off the hood.” Yongguk said, “Show me his face.”

 

The smaller of the two guards stepped forward as the broader man held the prisoner's arms steady and carefully he gripped the hood and tore it off to reveal a head of black hair and a young face. Those around him looked upon a man who was both foreign and familiar, but to Junhong the world had stopped spinning. He took in full lips and high cheekbones, a sloping nose and almond eyes. It felt as though a hand wrapped its way around his lungs and squeezed until Junhong could only suck in enough breath to gasp out two syllables that tasted old and rusted with disuse.

 

“Junseo?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... Yeah so that happened. It is funny... A lot of the main plot points from this were originally considered for Valley of the Horse King over a year ago. A few small definitions:
> 
> Gayageum you may know, but a Tongsu is like a wooden flute played in traditional Korean music, and the Sujeo is the name of the set of utensils used for Korean food, a pair of metal chopsticks and a long handled spoon.
> 
> I am so sorry this came so late, I've been so busy I haven't had the chance to write at all! I hope you enjoyed x


	8. Chapter 8

For a long while they just stared at one another. The great hall had fallen silent when Yongguk had hushed the musicians with a wave of his hand, and all on the tables surrounding them just stared, some in confusion, others in shock.

 

“Junhong...” Junseo said, and just like that he seemed to startle himself from his stupor and his eyes grew frantic, glancing around as his tangled thoughts stumbled over one another. The man began to struggle in the hold of the Palace guard, trying desperately to move forward towards his little brother, as though the boy pressed against his King was in any danger.

 

Without thinking, Junhong pulled away from Yongguk's hold and rounded the table to drop to his knees before Junseo. Trembling hands hovered over his skin, as though if he touched him it would somehow break the illusion, and his brother wouldn't be there after all. It didn't seem real, it _couldn't_ be. Finally, skin met skin and Junhong was cradling the jaw he remembered, his thumb brushed along a cheekbone, tears spilled from his eyes and he laughed through them and pressed his forehead against his brother.

 

“Junhong-” Junseo said again, but the name sounded strange on his tongue, as though he was trying to remember how to say it. The young Prince noticed the strain Junseo was putting on his arms as he struggled in his binds, desperate to reach forward and touch.

 

“Untie him.” Junhong commanded through his tears and looked up at the stony guards, who's hands still held tightly on to his brother. At first, they hesitated and shared a glance between themselves, “I said untie him!”

 

“Do as he says.” Yongguk provided and finally with a fluid swish of a blade the ropes that restrained Junseo were cut and strong arms wound their way around Junhong's trembling form and gathered him in close.

 

“Hyung, you're- I thought... I thought-” Junhong tried, but a fault in his voice severed his speech and instead, he tucked his face in against Junseo's nape and breathed him in. His skin smelled of sweat and the sea, and it was exactly how he remembered it.

 

“I have you, little one.” Junseo murmured into his hair, “I'm here.”

 

Behind them, Yongguk rose to his feet, and Junseo's arms instinctively tightened around his little brother. With eyes full of defence and distrust, he watched as their King beckoned to Hwayah, stationed against the wall with her own face creased with worry, “Take them somewhere private.”

 

“Your Majesty is that really wise-” Lord Baek began, but Yongguk silenced him with a wave of his hand.

 

“Take them, Hwayah.” Yongguk said again and the woman stepped forward. Gently, she ushered the brothers to their feet and guided them from the hall towards the large bronze doors Junhong knew well. Junseo's arms slipped from around him but they didn't let go completely, and Junhong was grateful. He didn't think he could go without his brother's warmth after years of believing him to be lost.

 

The thought its self caused Junhong to turn his head and look towards Junseo. He was obviously older, his jaw seemed more defined, and he was dressed in clothes designed for travel, but still of greater value than anything the brothers had worn in their village. Dark, thick brows were furrowed with uncertainty as he glanced around the corridor, but as their eyes met, he softened and smiled. The three of them rounded a corner and approached the guards stationed at the partition who bowed their heads with respect, and allowed them through into the dark and quiet halls. When the door fell shut behind them, Junseo glanced over his shoulder. Junhong smiled and slipped his hand down into his brother's to lace their fingers together and squeeze.

 

Hwayah stopped walking at the door to Junhong's private chambers and turned to the brothers, “Can I bring you anything?”

 

Junhong looked at his brother, their shoulders brushed. He couldn't believe this was real, “Do you want a bath, Hyung? A change of clothes, or anything else?”

 

“No.” Junseo said, his eyes distrusting as a pair of guards approached them down the hall to take position either side of the door.

 

“Bring some food, Ahjumma.” Junhong said, “My brother must be hungry after his journey.” A swell of warmth flooded his chest as he said the word. Brother.

 

With a bow of her head, Hwayah withdrew from the chamber and the door fell closed behind her, leaving them alone in silence. Junseo was the first to move and he gently drew his hand back from where it still clutched to Junhong's own, and the younger realised the sweat that he slicked their palms. He pressed his hand to his silk robes and wiped it away as waves of reality rolled in.

 

“You're alive.” Junhong said, his stomach twisted.

 

“So are you.” Junseo replied. The elder turned his head to glance around the room, taking in the writing desk and the shelves, the gayageum laying stationary across the floor and the welcoming shape of a soft couch pressed back against the wall, “Junhong-” He hesitated, brows furrowed as his eyes scanned the spines of books; Histories, love stories, all of Junhong's favourites that he could now read.

 

“What happened?” Junhong asked, his throat tight and his mind cloudy. Junseo was alive. Junseo was in Huingol. Junseo had been safe _all this time._ Arms wound their way around himself, searching for something grounding as he struggled to get his breathing even.

 

Junseo came closer, and with one guiding hand he lead the younger to sit with him across the couch, face to face. Junhong wondered how Junseo was staying so steady, because he felt like his entire being was shaking.

 

“Junnie breathe.” Junseo said as the younger's chest heaved to take in breaths, his eyes growing wide.

 

“ _Tell_ me.” Junhong said, barely making it out between shallow gasps for oxygen. Fingers pressed into Junseo's shirt and curled into a fist, holding on as his throat seemed to close and blood rushed in his ears.

 

Junseo's palm pressed warm and familiar to his brother's face, “Not until you calm down.”

 

“Calm down?” Junhong pulled his head back, lips turning down into a frown, “You want me to _calm down?_ I thought you were dead for four years, and now you are here, you're sitting before me and telling me to be calm! Did you _know_ that I was alive?”

 

“Of course I didn't know!” Junseo replied, his tone hushed as he reached forward and tried again to draw Junhong close but the younger pulled away and stood, watching with uncertain eyes.

 

“Then tell me what happened.” He demanded again.

 

With a deep breath, Junseo watched his younger brother, then nodded his acceptance, “I thought I was going to die.” He began, “One of Lord Kang's men caught me from behind with a blade across the back and I fell. I'd been trying to get the women into the forest when they caught up to me, and they killed them all in front of my eyes as I lay there, bleeding on the grass. The pain was unbearable and I was too weak to move, waiting for the fires they started to engulf us all and then I lost consciousness. I don't know how long I was there, but when I woke up, Sungwon-hyung was giving me water and his men were extinguishing the fires... Gathering the bodies.

 

“I remember the sound of them talking as the buried the dead. I was so weak that I couldn't keep my eyes open, and he hauled me on to the back of his horse and rode with me back to a camp in the woods where my flesh was treated and I was fed. The ride back to his city home was torturous, but I was alive, even if it took months for the wounds to heal. He told me no one else lived.” Junseo lifted his eyes towards his brother, brows furrowed, “But you... You survived. Did you run? Hide? What about Mama? I saw our father die but... The last time I saw you, you were leading her into our home.”

 

“I was promising to protect her.” Junhong filled in what his brother would not say, and a wave of tearing grief crashed over him again, tears weighing his voice, “I'm sorry... I failed you, I didn't mean for it to happen but they were coming so fast. They came in to our home and she told me to hide...”

 

“Where did you go?” Junseo shifted forward.

 

“I hid in the storage room, behind the crates of fish, but they found me. Kang himself did.” Junhong's arms tightened around his middle, his head turning, “He took me with him back to his city.”

 

“He showed you mercy?” Junseo looked disbelieving and Junhong swallowed.

 

“It was little mercy.” He said. Sometimes, when he closed his eyes, he still felt the cold grip of Lord Kang on his naked skin, and it made him want to be sick. With an intake of breath, Junhong admitted his deepest secrets and darkest shame and told his brother everything he had survived during his years trapped between grey walls in the city of Kang. Junseo watched him with agonised eyes, and Junhong could swear he could see his heart breaking.

 

Finally, the younger glanced down at where his arms folded around his middle, “In the three years I lived at Lord Kang's feet, I wished a thousand different times that he'd killed me too.”

 

The words caused Junseo to physically flinch, his fingers curled into his palms and his knuckles went white, “I've dreamt of killing him every day since the night our village burned.”

 

“He's dead.” Junhong replied and his gaze dropped to his feet, “One of the King's generals liberated the city from him, and I was brought here, along with other bounty from the raid.”

 

“I heard of his death, but why would they bring you here?” Junhong heard the reserve in his brother's tone, he knew the elder did not want to know, even as he did ask.

 

A knock came at the door, and Junhong turned his head, “Enter.” He said. A young servant stepped over the threshold, a tray of food held tightly in her hold and she bowed low to the brothers.

 

“Your Highness, Madame Hwayah instructed for me to bring you this.” She said and played it upon the nearby table. Junseo gazed hungrily over the assortment of snacks, though the title the servant girl used to address his brother did not fall on deaf ears.

 

“Thank you.” Junhong said, dismissing the girl with a wave of his hand.

 

The door closed with a heavy thud, “ _Your Highness_.” Junseo mused and Junhong nodded his head once.

 

“I arrived in the Valley as a courtesan to the King, but now I sit alongside him as his Prince.” Slender fingers took hold of the silver tray and carried it over towards the couch, and he lowered himself to kneel on the floor beside it, resting his forearm against the cushioned seat.

 

“When was the coronation?” Junseo's eyes gazed across the different Valley delicacies, taking in the sight and smell of foods he'd never seen before.

 

“I haven't been coronated.” Junhong murmured, “But by Winter's end the King told me I no longer lived to serve him. He wished for me to sit by his side as his companion, not his possession.”

 

“My brother bewitched a King.” Junseo said. Gently, he brushed aside a strand of Junhong's hair, and the younger smiled.

 

“He bewitched me in return.” He admitted. Between his thumb and his forefinger, he picked up a small slice of spiced dough and offered it up to his elder Hyung, watching as he gratefully accepted it and sighed.

 

“Hyung... I'm sorry I didn't protect Mama.”

 

“She would have wanted it this way. For you to live.” Junseo said, once he'd swallowed his food. In silence they ate the small pieces, one by one until the tray was empty other than the warm light of flickering candles reflected on its surface. Junhong set it aside, and the elder lay back across soft cushions, resting his travel-weary body, “I thought about you every day, you know. I missed our Mama, and our Pa, but I missed you most.”

 

Junhong smiled and pressed his cheek against the edge, his eyes fluttering closed. Fingers began to stroke across his hair, then over the curve of his ear in a rhythm Junhong had known years before, “What's it like? Where you live now?”

 

“Mmmm...” Junseo hummed as he, too, closed his eyes. Junhong could tell he was tired, he had to be after riding alone all that way. “It's built out on a peninsula, over the crashing waves. You can see the ocean in every direction, and everything smells like salt.”

 

“It sounds beautiful.” Junhong breathed.

 

“It is.” The elder replied, “Sungwon treats me well. As my wounds were healing, he taught me to read and to write, and said he would help me find a home and a trade in the city. We were such close friends by winter's end that he kept me as part of his household, an assistant of sorts.”

 

“Why did he call you here?” Junhong asked, but he couldn't open his eyes, drowsy in the safe presence of his brother.

 

Junseo shifted and slipped his hand into the inside of his coat to withdraw a scrap of folded paper, “He sent me this, the morning he rode from Kang.”

 

Those words had Junhong sitting up again and blinking the exhaustion from his eyes, “He sent that to you the morning we rode?” He asked, taking the folded parchment. If the courier had been meant for Junseo, then who had sent word to the soldiers awaiting them in the forest. Carefully, he pulled back the corners and glanced across the hand painted words, squinting every moment to make out where the ink had spread, or the hand was less steady.

 

_Junseo,_

 

_This morning I ride north alongside the Horse King to the golden capital. Whenever you receive this, follow me to the Valley urgently. I shall explain when you arrive._

 

_Sungwon_

 

 

Junhong frowned at the words and glanced up towards his brother, “This is all he said?”

 

“When the guards found me in the forest they said he had been arrested for treason, and that as a conspirator of his I would be, too.” Junseo pushed himself up to sit.

 

“And do you believe them?” The prince asked.

 

“That Sungwon would commit treason?” The elder scoffed and shook his head, “It's nonsense. He is faithful to the crown.”

 

“Even though he is Lord Kang's nephew?” Junhong's voice trembled.

 

“He had not spoken to Kang in years.” Junseo frowned, “He wished for his uncle to be punished just as much as I did.”

 

Junhong glanced down at the paper in his hand as thoughts raced around his head. The elder watched him with tired concern, “Junhong.. What's wrong?”

 

“Nothing.” The prince replied. He set the letter down on the floor and turned back to his brother with a smile, “Nothing. You should rest, Hyung. You must be exhausted.”

 

Slowly, Junseo lowered himself back down to lay and he exhaled a slow sigh, “I need to speak to him.”

 

“I know.” Junhong brushed a hand over Junseo's arm up to his shoulder, then into his hair. It was shorter than Junhong's, cropped to just about his ears, and shaggy all over. He mustn't have been able to wash properly since leaving the sea. One forearm rested alongside Junseo's form, Junhong's chin upon it as he continued to stroke through his brother's hair, the strands slipping through his fingers one by one.

 

“Junnie...” Junseo murmured and opened his eyes.

 

“Mm?”

 

“I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you, all those years.”

 

Dark eyes grew wet again, but Junhong did his best to hold tears back, “It's okay. What happened has passed, it's over now.”

 

“But I should have been there.” Junseo said, voice firm with resolve, “I always should have been there.”

 

“You're here now.” Junseo's hand moved from his side and took hold of Junhong's free one, squeezing it gently, and only a few moments later he was falling asleep.

 

Junhong didn't know how long he stayed there watching him with their palms pressed together and his eyes blinked slowly as he watched the steady rise and fall of Junseo's chest. Never before in his life had he thought an act so simple could be so beautiful.

 

The letter Junseo had carried with him from the south mentioned too little for Junhong's liking, and he could not quite understand the motives for Sungwon calling him North. Maybe the General had realised that the eldest Choi had not been the only survivor of the burning village, or maybe he had evil intent after all. What Junhong knew, however, was that this could be his only chance to find out.

 

In the hallway outside, the guard changed and Junhong lifted his head. With care not to disturb his brother, he slipped his hand free to take the letter from the floor and rose to his feet to creep slowly out of the door and into the corridor outside. Two guards straightened their stances as they saw him, fingers white as they gripped hold of their weapons.

 

“Your Highness.” One said and Junhong turned to him.

 

“If he asks for me, tell him I won't be long.”

 

“Yes, Your Highness.”

 

The halls were once more empty, other than the slowly patrolling guards, and Junhong guessed it had grown far later than he realised. The gathering in the great hall had disbanded, and most had already found their way to the warmth of their beds safe from the late summer chill. It wouldn't be long until the long summer evenings shortened once more and the all too soon the city would awaken in Winter. Something bubbled up in Junhong's stomach and a smile touched his lips again. Maybe he could convince Junseo to play in the snow with him, they had always loved that as children.

 

Instead of turning towards the bronze door and the public palace, Junhong veered left to step deeper within to where the halls began to twist and turn. Libraries and studies were left behind as Junhong crept past bedchambers and bathing rooms and soon he stood before a wide wooden frame and with the letter tucked safe in his robe, he knocked.

 

Silence, then the rustle of sheets.

 

“Who's there?” Himchan's voice came and Junhong smiled.

 

“It's me.” He glanced back over his shoulder. A guard was watching him from his place against the wall a little way further down the hallway. Maybe he thought if he were to look away for even a moment, the Prince would disappear.

 

From within the chamber, footsteps approached followed by the click of a latch rising and soon the door swung open to reveal Himchan. He wore nothing but a pair of linen pants, undergarments he had thrown on, and his hair was hanging loose to brush against his nape. Over his shoulder, Junhong saw Jongup watching him silently from the bed with the sheets pulled across his lap.

 

“Junhong...” Himchan said in greeting, “Is everything alright?” The Master General's brows were creased with concern, Junhong figured he had to be no less surprised at Junseo's appearance than Junhong himself. After a moment, he stepped aside with a glance into the hall and allowed Junhong in to their bedchamber, where no one could listen in.

 

“I need you to take me to the Eastern Wall. I need you to take me to Sungwon.” Junhong said.

 

“No way.” Himchan denied immediately, “No _way._ Yongguk would never allow it.”

 

“I need to see him.” Junhong was steadfast in his decision, but he knew the only way he wouldn't be turned around at the Palace door was if he was accompanied by someone trusted by the King. Although the title of Prince Consort rest upon his shoulders, Junhong's power only extended so far. He had never been coronated as royalty and any title was merely a word until the day a crown were to rest upon his head. On occasion he had wondered if the respect awarded to him only came so as not to anger the King himself.

 

“He tried to kill you.” Himchan shook his head and crossed the room to seat himself at the edge of the bed. The sheets were mussed and tangled, the white fabric rounded like billowing clouds.

 

“You have no proof of that.” The youngest replied, “Junseo said-”

 

“ _Junseo_ is his friend.” Himchan interrupted him, “You don't know what he would say to protect Kim.”

 

“Junseo is my brother.” Junhong's voice sharpened, “And he wouldn't lie to me.”

 

“Junhong-” Himchan stopped to brush his fingers back through his hair, clenching his jaw.

 

“He sent a letter.” Fingers dipped into the folds of his robe and he withdrew the parchment, holding it up in example, “I want to know what it means!”

 

“I'll take you.” Jongup voiced from his place on the bed. Strands of hair were falling from their binds around his face and he blinked lazily towards his younger friend. Himchan sighed and glanced with distaste to his lover, but the soldier simply shook his head. It was amusing that neither needed to speak to converse. Sometimes it reminded Junhong of how his parents used to be.

 

“If that were my brothers, I would want answers. Just as I know you would, if it were Yongguk or Yejin.” Jongup pushed back the sheets and stood. The young Prince turned away as the Moon child exposed his nudity without shame and grabbed for a pair of linen pants, much like the ones Himchan himself was wearing. He turned back to face them and sunk his fingers into indigo silks, but before he could tie his clothing closed, Junhong noticed the red welt scarred across his stomach. Jongup's knife wound had been deep, and physicians had claimed it a miracle that the blade had not torn into his stomach, but months had passed since it's infliction and still the skin was trying to mend.

 

Himchan too was glancing at the same part of his lover's skin with creased brows, “You need rest.”

 

“The wall is not far, Hyung.” Jongup smiled. His fingers slipped between Himchan's and drew him close, “Come with us.”

 

The Master General looked between the two friends with an expression of uncertainty. He sighed.

 

“Fine.”

 

*

 

The walk to the Eastern Wall at night was far more foreboding than it had been in daylight. Where once a bustling marketplace had flourished with the vibrancy of life, it was silent and dull under the cover of night, and only a few lanterns hung upon the street to direct their way. Stalls and shop fronts were empty of colour and wares, while their forms sent long shadows across the squares like nightmarish monsters hiding in the dark. Junhong walked between Himchan and Jongup, and he tried his best not to notice their hands resting upon their weapons, and their eyes scanning the alleyways breaking off on either side of the main road.

 

No light shone from the wall as they approached it and Junhong swallowed past the lump of anxiety lodged in his throat. He hoped this wasn't a mistake.

 

“Who goes there?” A guard called as they emerged from the night.

 

“Master General Kim.” Himchan said, “We've come to see Kim Sungwon.”

 

Once more, the jailer met them as the door swung closed with a low creak and deafening thud. He held a torch with his thick fingers and bowed as low as his stout belly would allow.

 

“Welcome, Your Highness.” He wheezed in greeting, and lead them down the hall and into the heart of the wall. Where days before they had taken a staircase ascending up, this time instead the leather armour-clad jailer showed them to another that descended down from the floor and disappeared into the dark below their feet. Junhong turned his head and glanced at Jongup and his friend smiled to him. It was warm and reassuring.

 

The jailer lead the way down, torch held high and keys chiming together at his hip and one by one, they followed him. In the minimal light, Junhong could see that the dungeon floor was damp from an unknown source, and the whole hall smelled of rot. Old wooden doors lined the way, each with a small grate built in so that guards could peer in and observe each one of their prisoners. It was nothing like the halls high above them where Seonmi was kept in what was luxury compared to this.

 

Half way along the hall, the jailer stopped and chose a key from his belt to unlock a cell. The wood at the bottom of the door was green with mould and it appeared to be rotting away and the jailer had to push it three times with his foot for it to lurch open.

 

Himchan stepped up to enter, but Junhong stopped him, “Wait.” He said, “I want to go in alone.”

 

“Fifteen minutes.” Himchan replied, and the jailer stepped aside to let him in. It was dark inside, other than the moonlight that shone in from a small grate built where the wall met with the roof at what Junhong guessed to be street level, and the walls were just as wet as the floor of the corridor had been. No furniture lined the walls, other than a small clay pot in the corner, and laying in the centre of the floor on a pile of damp hay, was Sungwon.

 

He still wore what he had been on the day of his arrest and his arms were wrapped around his form to preserve warmth until his eyes blinked open and he startled at the sight of a form standing over him.

 

“General.” Junhong said.

 

“Your Highness.” The General replied and carefully rose to stand. Mud was smeared across his clothing, his hair was tumbling from its binds, and his expression was set into one of apprehension. For a moment, they were silent, until Sungwon said, “He arrived, didn't he. Your brother.”

 

“You knew.” Junhong's voice was shaking, “You _knew_ he was alive and you didn't tell me.”

 

“I was not certain. Even as I wrote to him, I couldn't be. He was so sure you had died, just as you were him.” The man held up his hands, palms facing the young prince in an attempt to calm him, “But you would not be here if it was not true.”

 

A rush of hot pushed through Junhong's chest and for a moment his throat felt too tight to speak. Fingers curled into his palm, nails bit, “When did you figure it out?” He asked, then pressed his teeth together.

 

“The thought did not cross my mind until we visited your village.” Sungwon said. He didn't take his eyes off Junhong, as one wouldn't take their eyes off a predator. “In Kang, when Cha Seoyoung addressed you as Choi... I knew it was possible.”

 

“Why didn't you tell me?” Junhong stepped towards him.

 

“Because I couldn't be sure! What if I had mentioned it and Junseo had not been your brother? The King would have my head for disappointing you.” Sungwon scoffed.

 

“It looks like he'll be taking that anyway.” Junhong snapped back. The General winced at the biting words, his breath hissing between his teeth. Junhong took in slow breaths through his nose, willing himself to calm. He needed answers, and he would not receive those if emotion overruled reason.

 

“Did you come looking for me in the forest? The morning we met.” Sungwon's eyes snapped up and met with Junhong's again.

 

“No.” He said.

 

“But you knew it was me.” Junhong stated.

 

A smile twitched at the corner of Sungwon's lips, “I guessed you were the Prince the moment I lay eyes on you.” Feet shuffled against the straw floor, and for the first time Junhong noticed he was barefoot, “I had heard description of the King's beautiful companion, but they did not do you justice.”

 

“What about your uncle. Did he describe me, too?” Junhong asked.

 

Sungwon froze at the mention of Lord Kang and his mouth pressed into a thin line, “No.” The word was steady and firm, “Three years you were in Kang. If I was his friend, or his ally do you really not think you would have seen me, at least once? I was horrified by the crimes my uncle committed against your village. If I had known you were there-”

 

“So you didn't?” The prince interrupted, “You didn't know.”

 

“Of _course_ I didn't know!” Sungwon's voice was rising, his brows knitting together, “If I had I would have done something sooner!”

 

Junhong hesitated, “ _Sooner_?” He asked, “What do you mean ' _sooner'_?”

 

“What he did was a crime against this very country. He murdered innocent men, women and children out of his own greed and blood lust while his friends and allies celebrated his wealth around him and the King sat on his throne blissfully unaware.” Sungwon stilled and turned again to face Junhong, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Realisation broke like dawn and Junhong's eyes grew wide.

 

“You're the one who sent word to the King.” He said, “You're the reason Kang's compound was liberated.”

 

“I sent a rider, someone who could not be traced back to me just in case my uncle found out in the chance he survived and sought revenge.” Sungwon took in a deep breath, “Junseo is like a brother to me. I did it for him and I would do it again for him.”

 

Outside in the hall feet shuffled and a hand smacked open-palmed against the door, “Junhong.” Himchan called, they didn't have much longer.

 

Junhong's hand trembled as he slipped it into the fold of his rob and drew out the folded parchment handed to him by his brother, “This letter.” He said.

 

“Was about you. Nothing else. I had nothing to do with the assassin in Kang, nor the attack in the woods.” In the pale light of the full moon, their eyes met, “And I am afraid someone is using me as a distraction.”

 

The sound of colliding keys chimed through the heavy wood and both men turned to watch as the jailer swung open the door. Himchan's arms were folded across his chest with lips turned down into a frown, while Jongup stood like a statue beside him.

 

“Come on.” The King's brother said, “We need to get back before Yongguk realises we've gone.”

 

It didn't feel like enough, but Junhong guessed that after everything, nothing ever would. He crossed the wet floor towards the illuminated hall outside where his friends waited to take him back home to the warmth and comfort of the Palace.

 

“Your Highness.” Sungwon said before he could leave the room. Junhong turned his head to see the prisoner smiling with an affection he did not expect. “You look like him.”

 

When the cell door swung closed, Junhong hardly heard it slam over the sound of his heart hammering in his chest.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out! I have been so busy with work recently, and then I was really sick for the past week too! I hope you enjoyed x


	9. Chapter 9

Footsteps crunched on stone as the soldiers climbed the rocky mountain path. Concealed by the darkness of night, they had emerged from the trees and slipped into the pass, no torches or lanterns to illuminate their way so as not to draw any attention unwanted. Together they marched in unison with bodies wrapped in grey uniforms and lead by a man in black.

 

Ahead of them, a lantern swung on a wooden post and a man watched them approach with arms folded across his red-robed front. Three more stood a little way off, beside a standard bearing the flag of the King.

 

“Who approaches?” The first guard called, hand resting on his sheathed sword.

 

“Visitors.” Said the man in black.

 

“And what business have you in Huingol?” The guard enquired. His eyes scanned the men with uncertainty, and his three comrades slowly approached.

 

“With all due respect, what business is _our_ business of yours?” The man in black asked, chuckling under his breath.

 

“His Highness the Master General has sealed this road. No one in or out, unless invited by the King himself.” He stood his ground, that guard, and the man in black respected him for it.

 

It did not stop him, however, from drawing a knife from his belt and plunging it into the stomach of the guard. Hot blood soaked cloth and ran over the man's hand until he withdrew the blade and let the body fall lifeless to the gravel ground. As the three remaining guards broke out into a run down the mountain pass, the man in black gestured his bloody hand for his archers to take aim.

 

“We don't need an invitation.” He said, as arrows sung through the air and three more bodies fell to the ground with a muted thud.

 

*

 

The great hall rumbled with conversation as Kim Hwayah lead the Prince Consort and his long lost brother into the hallway, and Yongguk's mind was racing. Maybe it was naïve of him, to believe that things were what they were, and to be so shocked when he found that he was wrong, and maybe he was also selfish to think of where this left him.

 

A hand touched his elbow, and the King turned his head towards Lord Baek, who's brow creased with concern, or mistrust. Which one, Yongguk couldn't be sure.

 

“Are you quite alright, Your Majesty?” The man asked, glancing towards the door as though he may see Junseo twisting his hands together with some wicked plan.

 

“I'm fine.” The King responded. His tone clipped and his head turned again while he twitched with desperation to be at Junhong's side.

 

To no regret of Yongguk's, the party broke apart and soon their guests drew from their tables and retired to bed. Himchan pat Yongguk's shoulder and lead his lover away while servants bowed to the King as he carried past them. For a while, Daehyun trailed him, only to be dismissed with a tired smile and wave of a hand, so that Yongguk could slip into the quiet halls alone and exhausted and with a stomach twisting with worry. He did not venture towards his bedchamber, he didn't think he would sleep that night, and instead took place behind a sturdy ebony desk, with papers spread before him and a mind tangled with confusion.

 

Junseo's appearance had been a shock to them all, and he could see from the boy's face that he had been just as shocked at the sight of his little brother, as Junhong had been at him. It begged the question, however, who had sent for him, and what they had known. The guards bringing him into the hall did so with the reasoning he had claimed to be a friend of Sungwon, and to Yongguk, a friendship with Sungwon was a reason not to be trusted. All roads lead to the southern General's guilt, and Yongguk struggled to wrap his stirring mind around the elder Choi brother's loyalties.

 

The curved nail of his thumb slotted between teeth and he pulled until it gave way and ripped up from the bed, leaving an edge jagged and raw. A small drip of blood bloomed from the skin and he rubbed the tip of his tongue behind his teeth. Pain was distracting, papers weren't.

 

Yongguk pressed his hands to the desk and pushed himself again to stand. He did so quickly, and winced as the bruising at his side from the clash in the forest days before was stretched uncomfortably. It wasn't healing as fast as he wanted it to, but then again he guessed that wasn't how the body worked. Not even a King could bid his own flesh to mend.

 

A soft knock rapped at the door, and Yongguk lifted his head. Full lips pressed together for a long moment as he stared into the dark grain of wood until he blinked himself out of it, “Enter.” He said.

 

It was Hwayah who unlatched the door and stepped inside, bowing her head politely, even as her expression settled into one of seriousness, “I settled them in Junhong's rooms. I thought you may wish to know.”

 

“I guessed that would be where they were.” Yongguk replied.

 

“They've been fed. The elder master Choi refused to bathe and Junhong-ah is at his side, attentive to his every need.” She smiled with warmth, pressing her hands together, “They wouldn't pull apart from one another, not even a hand. It was as though either believed their brother would disappear if they let go.”

 

Yongguk's lips twitched into the offering of a smile, but it did not reach his eyes. He had seen the way Junseo had drawn Junhong closer the moment he stood, as if of anyone, Junhong had to be protected from the King.

 

“He has travelled a long way to be here. I'm sure he will be resting soon.” Hwayah added.

 

“Thank you.” Yongguk gave her a single nod, and she understood it as a dismissal. The woman walked back towards the door, graceful and elegant. Yongguk had always loved that about her; it never mattered that she was a servant, and had once been considered nothing more than a palace whore because she carried herself like a queen.

 

With her hand wrapped around the cool door handle, Hwayah turned her head to glance back at the young King, thoughtful as she did so. Her cunning eyes took in the furrow of Yongguk's brow and the anxious twist of his lips, and the smear of blood swiped across the pad of his thumb. Nothing was said, though, and she slipped quietly again into the hall without closing the door behind her. She suspected Yongguk would be following not a moment after.

 

She was right, of course. Once the sound of Hwayah's footsteps disappeared from the hallway, Yongguk emerged from the study between two armed guards and headed with purpose towards what had once been Junhong's bedchamber. By the time the last winter had ended, Junhong had taken to sleeping no where but Yongguk's arms, and the bed had been taken out and replaced with shelves for Junhong's books and cushions for him to play his gayageum across. Still, he rarely ventured there, much preferring to follow his King in his daily tasks.

 

Just as had been stationed outside his study, two guards stood at the door to Junhong's chamber, and they straightened in their stance when they saw him approach.

 

“His Highness the Prince left over an hour ago, Your Majesty.” One spoke and Yongguk's lips pursed. He nodded without response, and quietly let himself in to the chamber. Only a few candles were lit to illuminate the room but it was enough for Yongguk to see a tray sitting void of food on the floor beside some cushions and sprawled out asleep across the couch was Junseo.

 

Yongguk approached in silence and finally, he was able to take in the sight of him. His nose was slender, cheekbones high and his lips formed the same pout that Junhong's did as he slept. Dark lashes cast shadows across his cheeks and Yongguk could see the way his eyes shifted beneath the lids as he dreamt. It was undeniable how alike the brothers truly were. The King crossed the room towards the windowsill where a small porcelain bird sat, a gift to Junhong from a visiting Lord in the weeks before they had left for their journey south. The boy had loved it, of course, its delicate beak and pearly black eyes, and the feathers painted so intricately in varnish across the curve of its perfectly moulded back. It was heavy in Yongguk's hand as he lifted it from its perch and ran his thumb across its smooth side. To him it hadn't been anything special, but when he had seen Junhong's eyes bright with wonder, he couldn't help but find it beautiful.

 

Junseo's breath stuttered, and he opened his eyes. At first, the southern boy looked around the room, disorientated by the light, then he saw the King and immediately rose to his feet, and on unsteady legs he dropped to the floor to bow with as much respect as he could.

 

“Your Majesty.” He greeted, voice still thick with sleep. Yongguk could hear the sea in his voice, the same way he had with Daehyun and Junhong both when they first arrived in the Valley.

 

“You may rise.” Yongguk said and set the bird back down upon the sill.

 

“Where is Junhong?” he asked immediately, glancing around the room and Yongguk's lips twitched.

 

“I was about to ask you the same question.” He said.

 

“He was here when I fell asleep.” The elder spoke, glancing down at the pillows beside the couch, and the tray that lay alongside it.

 

“Did you travel to Huingol on foot?” Yongguk asked, tilting his head to the side. Junseo stilled and glanced back to him.

 

“No, Your Majesty. I took one of General Kim's horses.” He said.

 

“Kim Sungwon is a friend of yours, I understand.” Yongguk turned to look at him head on, “Just as I am sure you understand he has been arrested for treason.”

 

Junseo's back straightened, and the King saw the way his expression hardened with it, but he continued before giving the southerner a chance to speak. “He made an attempt on Junhong's life, then another on the lives of myself and the soldiers who ride with me. I don't know what Sungwon has planned, nor do I know why he has planned it, but I am not so foolish to believe he would keep you ignorant, nor uninvolved.”

 

“With all due respect, Your Majesty, what is _foolish_ is the suggestion that Sungwon would do anything to threaten the crown.” Junseo's voice was firm, and his fingers curled into his palm, “For years I thought my little brother was dead and I have wished every day that I had died, and that he had been the one to live, do not insult me by suggesting I would ever do anything to hurt him. You know nothing of the love I hold for him.”

 

“I know a great deal of what it is to love Junhong.” Yongguk snapped.

 

“Then you would know how foolish it is to claim I would wish him harm!” Junseo retorted.

 

“I believe you when you say you thought him to be dead, I saw your face when you lay eyes upon him, but that does not mean you have not plotted alongside Sungwon. What a nasty surprise it must be, to realise the man you're tasked to murder is your own flesh and blood.” The King spoke with twisted lips and clenched fists.

 

“Choke on those words, King, before the Gods laugh at their sound.” Junseo was wide awake now, with brows furrowed. His teeth pressed together in an attempt to hold his anger in, “You have _no_ evidence to suggest I have planned a thing.”

 

“If there is even a _whisper_ that suggests your guilt, Junseo, I will have your head before you can so much as mention the word mercy.” Yongguk ground, “I would do _anything_ to keep him safe, and that means I would not spare even you.”

 

“If there is anyone from whom it is worth protecting Junhong, it is you! You think this is his home? You think this is where he _wants_ to be?” Junseo barked out a humourless laugh, “This is not where he belongs, this can never be his home, just as I doubt you can ever make him truly happy. Grand castles and expensive silk are worthless when compared to a family, his _real_ family. And that is something I have and that you will never be able to offer.”

 

Yongguk visibly winced at the attack. His teeth bit down on his tongue hard enough to draw blood and his hands trembled with the fury that was building in his chest, “Be quiet.” He said, voice dangerously low.

 

“He'll never love you like he loves me.” Junseo finished.

 

“I said be _quiet!_ ” The King finally yelled, and in that moment, the door opened.

 

“What is going on?” Junhong asked from the door, his eyes wide as he stepped into the room before Yongguk could advance any further on Junseo. Both men turned towards him, taking in his loosely bound hair, and the mud and filth that lined the edges of his robe. The apples of Junhong's cheeks were flushed a soft pink, as was the tip of his nose, but the sweetness of the sight was easily outweighed by the concern and confusion heavy in his eyes.

 

“Where have you been?” Yongguk demanded immediately. His voice was still hard with anger, and his fingers trembled with it.

 

Junhong held his head high as he admitted, “The Eastern Wall.”

 

“You've been _where?!_ ” Yongguk's voice rose again, this time with genuine shock, “Who took you to such a place?”

 

“A friend.” Junhong replied and his tone was already defensive. The arch of his shoulder was pressed almost against Junseo's chest as he pushed between his brother and the King.

 

“Why.” The King demanded, “What _reason_ could you possibly have to go there?”

 

“I went to see Sungwon.” Junhong said defiantly, and Junseo glanced towards him in surprise. His fingers curled around Junhong's upper arm, just to hold on to him.

 

Yongguk paused himself before speaking to suck in a deep breath. He was struggling to keep what remained of his composure as fear and fury twisted together and tore at his stomach, agonising and torturous and overwhelming. Junhong stepped back away from him to press his back against Junseo's chest, and Yongguk knew it was true. There was one thing he could never give the boy, and that one thing was all Junhong had wanted since the day his village burned. Maybe Junhong could have his cottage built between the sea and a golden field after all, but it would not be with Yongguk.

 

“You were foolish to go there.” He said, shaking his head and having to turn away from the brothers, “It was dangerous.”

 

“He told me he is innocent!” Junhong argued back, “He said he is being framed for his crimes, and I trust him!”

 

“He would, would he not?! His life is on the line for this, and convincing _you_ of his innocence will only work in his favour.” Yongguk snapped, “Do not be so naïve, Junhong. You have known him a matter of days, do not be such a fool to believe riding at his side is reason enough to give him your trust.”

 

“I trust him because Junseo does.” Junhong bit back.

 

Yongguk laughed humourlessly, his lips spread into a frightening grin, “Of course!” He cried, “How foolish I have been to believe you would trust in my attempts to keep you safe, but of course here you are, so ready to take the side of someone you have only known to be alive for a matter of hours.”

 

“He is my brother.” Junhong was not intimidated by Yongguk's fury, and he stepped up towards him.

 

“Yes.” Yongguk replied, “You finally have everything you've ever wanted. A family, a home waiting for you. I am sure you can't count down the seconds fast enough before you can rid yourself of this place.”

 

“Maybe I _should_ leave!” Junhong responded, “At least I know in the south I would not have to deal with _you!”_

 

It was then that Yongguk couldn't take it any longer. He turned his head and pulled away, lips twisting and face flushed red, “Get out! Out of my _sight!”_ Strong hands came down against the shelf of books and he pushed them crashing onto the floor as Junhong grabbed a hold of his brother and together they fled from the room and out into the open hall.

 

A shout of anger followed behind them as Yongguk took hold of the porcelain bird and threw it with all his strength against the stone wall, sending pieces flying in every direction, but Junhong did not stop to look back.

 

*

 

When dawn broke, everything was soft and pink. As Junhong first woke up it felt as though he were still stuck in a dream, where the world softened at the edge and clouds billowed through the sky. Summer was nearing its end, and as it slowly faded from the world around them, the chill of Autumn was starting to descend. Only a thin blanket covered his form as he curled up on a soft futon placed in the centre of Himchan's favoured meeting room deep in the Palace's western wing and the young Prince could not stop the shiver that ran through him. A hand moved across the mattress, desperate in its search for another body's warmth, and anxiety swelled through Junhong as he realised the place beside him was cold.

 

“Junseo?” He asked and his tired eyes cracked open to peer through the dim.

 

“I'm here, little one.” Junhong turned his head towards the voice, and he saw Junseo standing at the window and gazing out into the morning light. Birds were playing across the courtyard, picking at seed scattered for them when the first of the Palace's maids made their rounds through empty halls.

 

“You don't have to keep calling me that.” Junhong said. He pushed himself carefully up to sit and rubbed at his eyes. They were still sore and swollen from tears he had shed the night before, “I'm already a man.”

 

“You're still my little brother, whether you're an adult or no.” Junseo replied. The elder of the Choi brothers was wearing the cream linen pants made for beneath his robes, and in the dim Junhong could see the scar hacked into the flesh across his back. It had long since healed, but he knew it would never fade completely.

 

Junseo turned his head and glanced back towards his brother, lips curved into a warm smile at the sight of him, “The valley is much colder than it is down south.” He noted.

 

“The mountains block the sun, and Autumn comes early.” Junhong offered him a smile of his own. He pushed back the sheet and stood, bare feet against cold tile and his own linen undergarments hardly enough to keep him warm.

 

“The chrysanthemums will be blooming soon.” Junseo hummed.

 

“Mama's favourites.” Junhong replied. The elder turned his head and saw Junhong shiver so he wrapped an arm around his middle to bring him back in close.

 

“You were Mama's true favourite.” Junseo teased and jostled the younger playfully, but Junhong just rolled his eyes.

 

“I wasn't.” He whined, and made Junseo scoff.

 

“Oh please, you and I wrecked old Jeon Ahjussi's boat on the headland and she fussed over you for an hour and blamed the whole thing on me.” He complained with a shake of his head, “I spent the entire summer building a new one while you stayed at home with your Gayageum.”

 

Junhong remembered it well. Junseo had been about fifteen at the time, and Junhong little more than ten as they set out on the surf alone, determined to find their way to the edge of the world. The wind had been too strong for them, though, and within the hour they'd been carried around the headland and the bow had caught upon the rocks. Waves crashed at the side and spilled over, and Junseo had grabbed the neck of Junhong's shirt and thrown him into the water before they, too, would be thrown back against the reef. When they had finally crawled together onto the shore, they fell back and laughed the water from their lungs at the miracle they survived.

 

“It had been your idea.” Junhong replied. He could still hear the sound of the waves crashing in his ears, feel the salt wind cooling his ocean wet skin and when he closed his eyes, it didn't feel that far away.

 

Huingol began to wake around them, and soon the brothers, dressed for the day, slipped from the vacant study and into the hallways. They moved between conversing soldiers and generals, and through to the kitchens where friendly cooks offered them their fill as they began the first steps of preparing the Palace breakfast. By the time the sun stood high enough to be called day, Junhong had pulled Junseo with him from the Palace completely and out onto the wide open square, breathing in the cool morning breeze.

 

“It's a beautiful city.” Junseo said, glancing at guards that patrolled in pairs. They dipped their heads with respect towards Junhong as they passed, some maybe noting to themselves that the Prince still wore his dress robes from the evening before.

 

“It is.” He replied, “The first time I saw it I couldn't believe it was real. I'd never seen a city before, Kang wasn't much more than a little town. There was so much movement, so much life, and everything looks like it is glowing.” The young prince steered Junseo north across the square, to where the city temple stood proud and peaceful. Where in the evening city people would gather for worship, the temple complex was vacant of life, and the shadows still cold from the morning where the sun had not yet reached.

 

The ceiling towered above their heads, dimly lit by few torches that still lined the walls painted so intricately with the city's great history. Junhong had always loved it there, where every inch told a different story.

 

“Is this where they worship the horse goddess?” Junseo asked, his fingers brushing over the curved branches of painted trees.

 

“Noeul.” Junhong supplied, “She is only worshipped at sunset, and most of the city folk visit temples through the city. This place is reserved for events of a larger scale, or things more formal.” He followed the wall along, searching for his favourite frames through the trees and houses and histories of life.

 

“Is this where you will be coronated?” Junseo asked from behind him and Junhong stopped. He turned his head and glanced back.

 

“If I ever am.” He shrugged a shoulder. His fingers brushed across where the trees opened up and the mountains rolled down into the Valley's great lake. The painted figures of a man and a woman stood facing one another at the water's edge, their hands clasped together.

 

“This is my favourite story.” He said, glancing back at Junseo, “It was one of the first I read by myself.”

 

Junseo stepped up behind him, curiously taking in the image of the couple, “What's it about?”

 

“She is the Princess.” Junhong began by tracing the shape of her, how her rich red robes fell around her feet in perfect folds easily seen even though the paint had faded, “Her name was Hyebin, and she was betrothed to marry a Prince from the east, before the peninsula was unified under Huingol's rule, but she did not love him. He was much older than her, foolish and she was young and intelligent and beautiful beyond belief. Without her father knowing, she fell in love with a poet from the city but as they had to keep it a secret, they only ever met on the bank of the lake.”

 

Junhong drew his fingers across the wall to where the city appeared again, and a shadowy figure whispered into the ear of a stoic king, “Eventually she fell pregnant and they were found out. The poet was driven from the Valley and into a village on the other side of the mountains, and the Princess was told he had died. She was distraught by his loss, but still she refused to marry the Eastern Prince. She believed that her only love had been her poet, and she would remain faithful to him until they met again on Noeul's plain.”

 

A bird called from high up in the roof and Junhong looked up, but Junseo carried on. He touched his palm to the next frame, two figures once again stood by the lake though their faces were worn with age.

 

“What happened next?” He asked.

 

Junhong smiled sadly, “For thirty years she ruled the Kingdom, and Huingol was more powerful than ever. One Spring, when she was old, she rode out to the lake again alone and by Noeul's blessing, her poet chose that very day to brave the pass across the mountains, even in his old age and they found one another again. He had been told that his banishment had been by her command, and he had spent those thirty years living alone working the land given to him by a kind farmer, but he had written a poem for her every day they were apart, ten-thousand of them. They were overwhelmed with joy and quickly travelled back to the city where they met with their daughter, who joined them in celebration.” Junhong turned and looked to his brother, “Three days after they were wed, they died peacefully in their bed, encased in one another's arms.”

 

“It's so sad.” Junseo frowned, inspecting the painting of the funeral possessions, “Lovers separated for years and dying as they are reunited. Why is something so sad your favourite?”

 

“Love doesn't have to be happy to be beautiful.” Junhong shrugged, “Even through it all, they were determined to love one another every moment of every day.”

 

“Just as the King does you.” Junhong hesitated at his brother's words, his head turning towards him, “He loves you very much.”

 

“He is stubborn and has a vile temper.” The prince replied. His shoulders were tense and his lips downturned.

 

“I was not kind to him.” Junseo admitted, “I spoke out of turn and angered him purposefully.”

 

“Nor was he to you.” Junhong supplied. He withdrew his hand from where it was pressed against the painted wall and allowed it to fall to his side, “So what of you, then? Is there a woman waiting for you on the coast?”

 

Junseo laughed aloud before he could stop himself at the suggestion and let his brother drop the subject he so clearly did not wish to settle on, “A woman, no.” His lips curved into a boyish smile, crooked like a waxing moon, “There had been one once, years ago. She was smart and beautiful, like the Princess Hyebin of your stories, but nothing came of it.”

 

“Why not?” Junhong steered his brother from the temple and back again into the light of day.

 

“I was going to ask for her hand, but her father deemed me nothing close to worthy. She was the daughter of a Lord, I was the peasant servant boy to a General, barely even literate then and so someone else more suitable was found for her.” Junseo lifted an arm up, using his hand to shield his eyes from the sun, “I would never have been capable of offering her the life she was used to, but Lord Baek was disappointed-”

 

“Lord Baek?” Junhong asked, blinking in confusion, “You know him?”

 

“Yes, of course.” Junseo glanced sideward to Junhong, “He is a friend of Sungwon's, and he is her uncle.”

 

Something felt unsettled in Junhong's stomach and his lips twisted in thought, “He never mentioned it.” He hummed but realised of course he would not have. How could an Eastern Lord have known any more than Junseo himself that his little brother had taken place beside the King?

 

Together they crossed the open square again, past the open front of the Palace and towards the steps descending down into the stables beyond. “There is a young woman, she has been a dear friend of mine for years. Sungwon fell for her two winters ago, and finally last Spring he realised she has fallen for him, too.” Junseo laughed, “I think he is going to ask for her hand when we arrive back home.”

 

“ _Home_.” Junhong repeated the word, and he felt his throat tightening. For years Junhong had been searching for home between folding clouds and scratching sheets, against naked skin and parting lips, while all along Junseo had found one in a stone house, with a family Junhong was no part of.

 

“Come with us.” Leather boot clad feet sunk into drying hay and scratched against gravel. The two brothers stepped beneath a carving of Noeul and into the stables as Junseo turned to his little brother, “When we go, come with us. Sungwon will find a place for you in his home, as he did for me. It's not as grand as Huingol, but there is life and opportunity. We can start over, together.”

 

For a moment, Junhong thought he could hear the sea again, crashing in his ears. His heart ached for it, yearned to feel the wind again on his face, but he could not answer Junseo's offer. Not then.

 

Instead, he drew in breath through his nose and tugged in Junseo's sleeve, “Come on.” He said, “There's someone I want you to meet.”

 

Junhong had never been through the stables so early in the morning, and barely another human was to be seen. In many of the stalls, the city's horses still stood sleeping, while others lazily nuzzled into feed bags left hanging as the steeds awaited the many stable hands who worked through the long summer days to come and spoil them. As they approached, Yeona craned her neck forward towards her beloved owner, snorting in need as she flicked her ears.

 

“Hello pretty.” Junhong hummed and wound an arm around her neck and she leant in to the embrace, “This is my Yeona.”

 

“She's beautiful.” Junseo said, reaching a hand out to touch her nose but drawing it back in close to his chest when she bared her teeth.

 

“She won't hurt you.” Junhong laughed. His nails scratched just behind her ear, drawing forth another sound of appreciation from her even as her eyes assessed Junseo.

 

Over their shoulders, gravel crunched beneath feet, and the brothers turned their heads back to see Lord Baek approaching them, lips spread into a warm smile.

 

“Your Highness, I did not expect to see you here so early.” He greeted with a bow of his head, “I trust the King knows of your morning explorations?”

 

“No.” Junhong said, too quickly. He dampened his lower lip and pulled back from his loving Mare, “No, he doesn't.”

 

“My my what _would_ he say.” The man hummed, then turned towards the elder Choi, “Junseo, what a pleasure it is to see you again, but unfortunately I must bring your exploration to an end.”

 

“What do you mean?” Junhong asked with an uncertain voice as four soldiers, dressed in grey, rounded the stalls and advanced upon them. The last thing Junhong remembered was the feeling of Junseo's hand warm in his, and then everything went black.

 

*

 

Generals gathered around the map with furrowed brows and twisting mouths. Yongguk stood alongside them, Himchan at his right and Jonghwan to his left, and together they gazed across painted rivers and arching mountains to where a row of clay horses were placed strategically at the Valley's mouth. It all seemed so simple when they lay it out across paper with a cavalry of stone positioned to protect them, but Yongguk was not so naïve to believe anything in war could be easy.

 

“If it does come down to this,” Jongin was saying, gesturing with his one hand along the mountain ridge, “We can use the pass to our advantage. Our men are familiar with that road, we know the best sites to use to plan an ambush.”

 

“But the Valley, once penetrated, is vulnerable. They can surround us on every side.” General Park replied.

 

“Not every side.” Jongin gestured to the mountains behind the eastern wall, but Yongguk could hardly hear them talk as exhaustion hung heavy on his limbs and misery clouded his mind. Sleep had evaded him the night before as he lay awake and alone between the sheets of his bed, his mind tearing its self apart in the agony of his anger and fear.

 

“What do you think, Your Majesty?” Jongin asked, and Yongguk turned his head. All eyes were on him, his hands were trembling. He felt so young all over again.

 

Outside, in the hall, there was a crash and raised voices. Hands found their way to the hilt of sheathed swords all across the room and the door was thrown open in a flurry of haste. Junseo stumbled through the door, blood smeared across his cheek and his lips split and bleeding but he did not stop until his frantic eyes met with those of the King.

 

“It's Junhong.” He gasped for breath, “He's been taken.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your patience with me as I lose all semblance of a posting schedule. I'm sorry that this is a mess and now its 0130 and I'm going to bed zzzzzzz


	10. Chapter 10

“What?” Yongguk said. To Jongup, his tongue sounded heavy, and his eyes were wider than ever before as all colour seemed to drain from his face.

 

Junseo's hands trembled, “He was taken, I didn't... I _couldn't_ do anything to stop them, there were too many and I couldn't fend them off. They went out towards the forest.” His breath was catching in his throat, as though his lungs couldn't quite inflate and Jongup thought if he didn't breathe soon, he might fall over.

 

“General Cho.” Himchan said, waving his hand towards one of Huingol's resident Generals. He stepped forward, “Send riders into the forest and up through the pass, the rest of you leave.”

 

“But Your Highness-” General Park tried, as Cho slipped from the room to muster his men.

 

“I said get out.” Himchan replied, and the men were spurred into movement.

 

“Who?” Yongguk asked. It was strange, how he seemed so unaware of those moving around him. In four years, Jongup had seen a lot of Yongguk, his anger, his hatred, his passion and love. The soldier believed he had bore witness to every side of their stoic King, except for fear. Not until that moment.

 

Jonghwan and Jongin both ushered the Generals from the room and sealed the door behind them, leaving the group in an oppressive silence, only broken by Junseo's shuddering gasps.

 

“Who!” Yongguk shouted.

 

“Baek! Lord Baek, it was Baek.” Junseo stumbled, tripped over each syllable as though he himself couldn't quite believe it, “We were in the stables, Junnie was telling me about his horse and then Baek was there, and there were more of them. They pulled us apart and they hit him, he fell and they held me back before I could get to him!”

 

The southerner's voice was growing thick with emotion and fear and his hands lifted to clutch at his throat, as though he would be able to pull away the tendrils of agony that wrapped around his windpipe and squeezed until he couldn't breathe. Gasped breaths overcame his words, and Himchan stepped to his side. The Master General took hold of Junseo's arm, waving over to Daehyun.

 

“Send for the physician, and call Youngjae, too.” He said, barely able to hold Junseo as the man's legs collapsed from beneath him. Jongup stepped over towards the Prince and carefully slipped an arm around Junseo's middle, taking the majority of his weight from Himchan and guiding him to where he he could sit.

 

“What were you doing there?” Yongguk cried, “Why would you go alone?!” The King moved forward, fists clenching tight and Himchan stepped up towards him. A palm pressed against his elder brother's chest, holding him back as Junseo cowered away.

 

“Yongguk, don't. This is not Junseo's fault.”

 

“Junhong would not have been out there alone if it were not for him!” Yongguk snapped at his brother, and Junseo's jaw clenched.

 

“Nor would he have been out of the Palace if it were not for _you!”_

 

The King tried to step forward again, but Himchan continued to hold him back, “No, Yongguk, enough! This will not benefit a thing, nor will it assist in getting Junhong back.”

 

“A fight is what they want.” Jongup drew his hand from where it rest against Junseo's shoulder, “If we are not united, we are not as strong.”

 

“Jongup is right, Your Majesty.” Jongin's palm brushed against Jongup's back and he turned his head. The calm tone that softened his voice was familiar to Jongup, it was the one often used in their childhood, whenever Jongup would get worked up or upset.

 

“Junhong is yet to be coronated, and therefore his role in this palace is little more than a title used before a crown is lay. By taking him, Your Majesty, they are making an attempt to destabilise you.” The hand disappeared, and the General stepped forward. Himchan released his hold on Yongguk and shifted back, to allow Jongin's advance, “Just as an attempt was made on Junhong's life to drive your company from the south.”

 

“What are you trying to say?” Yongguk said bitterly.

 

“Lord Baek has played nothing but filthy tricks.” Jongin stated, “It was his words that encouraged Kim Sungwon's arrest, which had you believing that the clash in the forest, and the event in Kang was his doing, but this all shows that it was Baek. All of it was Baek.”

 

The door opened again, and Daehyun urged in the elderly Physician, and Youngjae whose eyes were open wide and wet with emotion. His fingers sunk into the sleeves of Daehyun's robes and he looked around, “Is it true? Has he really been taken?”

 

Junseo hissed as fingers pressed to his cut cheeks, “Yes.” He said, wincing at the touch.

 

“Noeul have mercy.” Youngjae's palm pressed across his mouth, “Where would they have taken him?”

 

“They cannot have made it far yet, but only Noeul knows where they are destined. The coast, the south, back to the halls of Kang, but one thing is certain.” Jongin turned his head again towards the King, “If they hurt him, coronated or no, it is an act as good as declaring war.”

 

Silence settled between them and stretched out long and cold. Youngjae held tight to Daehyun's form, while Jongin and Jonghwan exchanged glances and the Physician tended to Junseo. With a deep breath, Himchan stepped back and away from his brother to curl his hands around Jongup's waist and draw him back and in against the warmth of his chest. At any other time, it may have been comforting, but familiar arms and loving touches would do nothing in the face of the end.

 

Yongguk moved closer to the table and gazed down at the clay horses positioned across the painted map. His fingers traced the boundaries of the Valley, around the lake and over trees until they came in contact with the small hand crafted model. They were different from the ones Jongup knew from when he was a boy, smaller and more precisely made, but they shattered all the same when Yongguk swept them with a cry of despair from their positions and across the stone floor.

 

“Everyone out.” He said, shoulders shaking as he shook with his emotion, “Everyone get _out.”_

 

“Yongguk-” Himchan tried, but Jongup stopped him with the press of his hand. He turned his head and nodded, urging Himchan to follow his brother's request, and quietly the Prince guided the others from the room and closed the door.

 

Outside, in the hallway the Generals were still gathered while across the city soldiers were preparing to ride out and into the pass. It would start with only a few, but Jongup figured eventually more would follow, if they were to go to war by winter's come. Above their heads the sky was clear, but every passing moment brought them closer to the end of Summer, and Autumn would be no more than days away.

 

“He was right, you know.” Yongguk said. His back was still turned to Jongup, but the soldier easily recognised the thickness in his voice. He was crying.

 

“Who?”

 

“Junseo. It is my fault that Junhong is gone. It's all my fault.” The King's head turned, as though he were going to look back but he didn't. Instead he let himself fall into a nearby chair, his hands covering his face.

 

“Every time the sun fails, there is a morning after.” Jongup replied. His fingernails scratched over the map, so carefully gazed upon a mere hour before. The mountains around the valley towered across the shadowed plain, and Jongup traced the small lines of roads and trails through the wood, all connecting up again towards the mountain pass.

 

“Now is not the time for nonsense.” Yongguk growled, jaw clenched but Jongup's lips twitched into a smile.

 

“Junhong is as stubborn as he is clever. He will survive this, as will you. All that must be done is for us to remain sharp, and to plan with care.” Jongup said, “Do not let the darkness overcome you, because nothing is as certain as the coming of dawn.”

 

Yongguk finally turned his head, “I hope you're right, Jongup-ah, because I believe this darkness will have driven me mad by the dawn's break, and as of that moment, I do not care how many throats must be slit for me to get to him.”

 

By the time Jongup slipped from the room, the sun was setting. Two guards were stationed outside, Jonghwan's favourites and men they had trained alongside years before in General Kwon's practice yards, before the Moon brothers had ever made their way into the Palace, or their King's favour.

 

“If he calls for someone, send for me.” He said, and both bowed their heads as Jongup went in search of Himchan to speak with him of what they must do next.

 

*

 

When Junhong awoke, the sun was dying. Red and orange light was bleeding through the trees, sending shadows long and thin like nightmarish ghouls across the grass. The colours were beautiful and it looked as though the tips of the trees around him made an attempt to mimic their splendour as Autumn had taken hold of their roots and turned their Summer green to soft oranges and golds.

 

In a daze, the Prince turned away from the light as his head pounded. It felt as though Noeul herself was trampling across his brain, and it was almost enough to have his ears ringing, and the bright gold of the evening sun was doing very little to help him. Junhong closed his eyes as tight as he could, hoping desperately that it would relieve some of the agony radiating from the side of his head, where the hilt of a heavy sword made contact with his skull.

 

Lord Baek.

 

Junhong opened his eyes again and this time, he forced his mind to focus beyond the pain and think. He remembered clearly, being in the stables at Junseo's side, and seeing Lord Baek round the corner with his thugs, he remembered the feeling of fear hot and dry coursing through him as his brother's hand found its way into his. Junhong curled his fingers into his palm at the memory, and realised for the first time that his hands were bound together behind his back, crushed awkwardly between his tailbone and the hard, scratching bark of a tree. Rope was wrapped across his chest and around the sturdy trunk, keeping him still and secure. Carefully, he began to pull on his binds to test their tension and his eyes searched around before him, hoping to see a signal, a symbol, something he recognised, but all around him was nothing but trees.

 

“You're awake.” A honey sweet voice startled him, and Junhong looked up.

 

Cha Seoyoung stood over him, her pale face twisted and her red lips curved into a satisfied smile. The browns and greys she wore distracted nothing from her aged but beautiful face, but Junhong only looked upon her with hatred, and said nothing.

 

“I should have known you would bite your tongue.” She hummed, amused, “You always were such a good boy. Though I had expected Valley riches and a pampering hand would change that.” From behind them, voices filtered through the trees, echoing in the evening light. The scent of a campfire was beginning to swell, and Junhong could hear men sharpening their weapons, and gathering their shields, while beyond that came the faint trickle of a stream.

 

Junhong's eyes rose when Cha Seoyoung knelt down before him, her head tilting to the side as she gazed over his features, his neatly tied hair and the silk robes stitched by seamstresses famed in the valley for their exquisite work.

 

“How different you look now, sweet boy.” She said, using the endearment she called him long before, between the grey walls of Kang, “No longer the scrawny little thing I knew. I laughed, you know, when I first heard that the King had taken a liking to you. The thought of the filthy little orphan whore surrounded by riches, well, it amused me. While Kang fell apart, you were being pampered and spoiled, as though you were anything worthy of that.” Her tone sharpened with each word, her mouth twisting still, “My husband died in the raid, you know, as did our Lord, and many of the young men born and raised in that city, but of course how relieved you must have been that they saved _you_.”

 

“Your Highness.” Junhong said, lifting his head and looking the woman in the eye, “'How relieved you must have been that they saved you _, Your Highness.'_ ”

 

He expected the hand that came down across his face, quick and hard. His tongue ran across his bloodied lower lip, and it stung where it met with the break in his flesh, but Junhong didn't give Seoyoung the satisfaction of wincing in pain.

 

“You worthless-”

 

“Madame Seoyoung, he isn't worth much to us damaged.” Lord Baek's voice stopped her as the man rounded the tree towards them. Seoyoung pulled back with clenched fists, and Junhong saw a smear of his blood across her hand.

 

“He isn't worth anything either way.” She spat and turned away, heading back towards the camp.

 

“She bites like a snake, that woman.” Lord Baek hummed, glancing down to Junhong and waving a hand to someone the Prince couldn't see. He heard footsteps approaching, and soon the rope that bound his body against the sturdy tree went slack, and he was pulled by rough hands to his feet and forced to move, “I'm glad you've woken up, Your Highness. I was starting to worry I'd hit you a little _too_ hard.”

 

Junhong stumbled as he was pushed round the tree, and only the stoic soldier's tight hold on his arm was enough to keep him standing as he faced the enemy camp for the first time. It was small, though Junhong guessed if it were any larger, it would easily capture the attention of Valley guards patrolling the roads, maybe even those too stationed upon the walls. Between trees, soldiers dressed in grey uniforms watched his approach, there must have been twenty of them, maybe more. The clearing its self was not large, and at the far edge a small stream built a boundary between them and the remainder of the forest, and Junhong realised it as a place he knew. Although he had only been there once, Junhong doubted he could ever forget the place where Yongguk had kissed him the first time, so many months before.

 

“Where is my brother?” Junhong asked, turning towards Lord Baek, “What have you done to him?”

 

“Relax, Your Highness. If we had killed Junseo, the King would have just assumed the two of you had run off together, back to the Ocean. He shall live long enough to tell Yongguk where you've gone.” It was Baek himself who forced Junhong to his knees again, and a soldier bound his body back against the tree, tighter than he had been before, “I was hoping Sungwon would send for Junseo, what a relief that he is just as predictable in adulthood as he was as a boy.”

 

Junhong's head lifted, eyes wide, “You _knew?”_

 

“Of course I knew.” Baek scoffed, “Sungwon tried to hide the origin of his mysterious new orphaned servant, but it did not take me long to guess which village he came from. News spread wide of the burning village to the South, even Kang himself revelled in the spread of rumour. Junseo spoke to me of you, of course, his precious little brother taken too soon, and it hardly took much effort for me to connect his stories with those whispered to me by Madame Seoyoung. The orphan whore whisked away to serve our King and becoming his great love.

 

“Yongguk is a strong man and a steady leader. The mistake the Kwon brothers made was taking him head on, doing nothing to quake at his foundations, and I guess I figured it was my chance to destabilise him.” Lord Baek chuckled, “I thought Junseo could appear, and you would wish to follow him home, but Sungwon wouldn't figure it out fast enough. I organised for us to stumble across your path in the forest, I urged him out towards your camp in the morning, followed you to visit the ruins of your village and yet nothing, not until he realised your name.”

 

“You bastard.” Junhong growled up at him, pulling against his binds. It had all been planned, everything from the moment they first lay eyes on Baek, right down to the argument between the Choi brothers and their King the night before. He had played them all for fools.

 

Baek ignored the insult and waved his hands through the air, “It annoyed me that I lost a good man in my attempts to shake the King. Though I admit it was foolish of me to risk murdering you so close to the guards he trusts to protect you.” Baek sighed, “Oh well, Sungwon made it there in the end, and faithful Junseo was as hot headed as I anticipated, and here we are.”

 

“Why?” The younger questioned, “What is this all for?”

 

“Oh Your Highness, the Kwon brothers weren't the only ones who hate the King.” Baek chuckled, “My family were once a great power on this peninsula. Until the estate was taken and divided for a pittance by the crown. He is shame on the crown, your _King._ ”

 

From beyond the stream, footsteps were approaching through the dark. The light of the fire was sending long shadows across the clearing, and Junhong felt himself shrinking back as more grey-clad soldiers stepped into the light lead by a man dressed in black. Tight in his hold was one of Huingol's red-dressed guards, no doubt sent into the forest on patrol.

 

“This is all you found?” Lord Baek asked, his head having turned to watch them approach.

 

The man in black's mouth twitched into a smile, “This is the only one I didn't kill.”

 

From where Junhong sat, he could see the guard trembling, and across the clearing their eyes met. He recognised his face as one that patrolled often through the halls, and he was sure he had seen the man laughing with Jonghwan when neither thought he could see. Baek sighed and slipped his hand into his robes, withdrawing a folded letter and holding it out to the newcomers, “Very well.”

 

“Do you really think twenty men hiding out in a forest they don't know is anywhere near enough to wage war on a King?” Junhong asked, curling his lips. Baek turned back and glanced down to him, chuckling softly under his breath.

 

“Oh but I don't need a war to get what I want.” He said, as he lowered himself so their faces were level, “I have you.”

 

The moment he was near enough, Junhong leant forward and spat in the Lord's face and Baek grimaced at the contact. His right hand lifted and wiped at his cheek with distaste, and once more he stood.

 

“You.” He said, looking to the guard and holding out the folded parchment, “Take this to the Palace, and make sure it gets to the King.” Once the man's quivering fingers were wrapped around the paper, he was released and took off at a run through the trees, in the direction of the city.

 

“You'll just let him run off?” The man in black said as they watched him go, “Now now, you take away all my fun.”

 

“Fine.” Baek said, “Just make sure he'll live to actually _deliver_ the message.”

 

The man in black smirked, and followed the guard into the trees.

 

*

 

Himchan's steps echoed in the quiet hall, and those of an armed guard followed behind him. Ever since he had been a boy, Himchan had hated feeling the accompaniment of another in such a way, as though he were a child that needed baby sitting. Even the thought of taking a courtier as a man servant had been off-putting to him, that is until he first met Moon Jongup. He guessed a lot of things had changed that summer.

 

As they rounded a corner, the King's brother pulled to a stop and turned his head.

 

“You don't need to follow me.”

 

“Captain Moon believed you may be in danger, Your Highness.” The Guard spoke, gaze focused forward, never quite looking directly at the man himself.

 

“Jonghwan worries too much. He seems to forget that I am just as well trained in protecting myself as he is.” Himchan sighed.

 

“He just likes to be careful, Your Highness. Especially now, with the Prince Consort missing.”

 

“Yes well-”

 

“Hyung.” Himchan turned his head back and gazed down the hall behind the Guard, to where Moon Jongup had just rounded the corner. Something in the Prince relaxed, as it always did when he was together with his diamond.

 

“I have another here to protect me now. You may go.” He dismissed the guard, and with a bow of his head, the man withdrew to join his comrades elsewhere in the Palace, and the Prince was able to turn his full attention upon his lover.

 

“Jonghwan is tightening security?” Jongup asked, watching as the guard disappeared down the hall.

 

Himchan breathed through his nose and took advantage of the privacy to draw Jongup in close again, nudging his nose into his hair and taking comfort from the scent. With a hum, he nodded, “Mm, as could be expected. How is Yongguk?”

 

“How would you be?” Jongup shook his head. Gently, he pried himself from the elder's hold, and together they continued down the quiet corridor, “He's afraid. I've never seen him afraid before.”

 

“I've never known him to love anything like he loves Junhong.”

 

“He blames himself.” Jongup noted.

 

“I don't blame him for that.” Himchan breathed, “I would, too, if that were you.”

 

Together the lovers emerged into a wider hall, bustling with soldiers and Generals, all speaking hastily with furrowed brows and downturned lips. News had spread quickly of Lord Baek's treason, and already those who gathered in Huingol for council were prepared to arm their men for a war that had not yet been declared. In a way it was frightening, to think how readily these men were willing to lay down their lives for the crown.

 

“I sent Daehyun to the wall.” Himchan said, steering Jongup through the crowd easily. Those around them parted to let them pass towards the Master General's library, where the physician had taken Junseo to treat his wounds. They were nothing serious, little more than a split lip and bruising, but Himchan could see that the man had been shaken, and he was doing no better than the King at holding himself together.

 

“Do you think we will go to war?” Jongup asked.

 

“I don't know.” Himchan replied.

 

Two guards stood outside the library door, more of Jonghwan's work Himchan was sure, and they stepped aside to allow the pair through. Jongup entered first, and the General followed through. The walls were lined with tall shelves, heavily loaded with old books and city histories, each one narrating a different battle or successful strategy. They were the old tomes Himchan had studied from his years as a teenager until he was a grown man, and within their pages they held everything he had to know if he were to lead the peninsula into a battle their dynasty may not survive.

 

Against the wall, Junseo sat with his head in his hands, while the physician worked at cleaning a wound across his upper arm. Blood tainted cloths sat discarded at their sides as the Physician dabbed at each wound to clear them of grime. Junseo lifted his head, brows furrowed as he looked between the two city men he had only known a matter of hours.

 

“Any word?” He asked, fingers twitching with anxiety.

 

Himchan smiled sadly and shook his head, “Nothing yet.” He replied, “It is hard to know what Baek wishes to happen as a result. He may be hoping for the King to follow him out of the Valley, and to be ambushed.”

 

“Maybe he does want to trigger a war.” Jongup added.

 

“I only just got him back.” Junseo rubbed his palm across his face, laughing without humour, “I only just got him back.”

 

“As long as Yongguk is king, no harm will come to your brother.” Jongup replied, and Himchan hoped he was right.

 

Outside in the hall, more voices came and the door once again opened. Jonghwan and Daehyun entered the room with Kim Sungwon between them and Youngjae taking the tail. The southern General spied Junseo in the corner first and his gaze shifted steady and stoic to Himchan next.

 

“Captain Moon has told me of what transpired this morning.” He said, “To think Lord Baek would betray us all... I can't believe what he has done. How fares the King?”

 

“He lives, General.” Himchan replied. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Junseo pushing himself to stand, and as Jonghwan and Daehyun both stepped from Sungwon's side, the southerners embraced. The warmth with which they held one another brought the faintest touch of a smile across Himchan's lips, “We apologise for your wrongful imprisonment, and I hope you will consider standing beside us, in whatever is to come.”

 

“I know it was no fault of yours, Your Highness.” Sungwon said and although he drew back from the brotherly embrace within which he held Junseo, but he couldn't quite seem to want to let go of him completely, “It would be with great pride that I would ride beside the King.”

 

“Your loyalty is valuable, at a time such as this.” Himchan dipped his head, then turned to glance towards Jonghwan, “What news do you have?”

 

“Horsemen have been sent into the pass, in case Baek has tried to smuggle Junhong out through the guards there, and more have been sent to patrol through the forest.” The second Moon brother began.

 

“Good.” Himchan nodded. He fell into a seat stationed behind the broad ebony desk, his fingers toying at his lips in thought.

 

“There's something else...” Jonghwan began. All in the room turned to watch as Jonghwan's hand slipped into the front of his robe and withdrew a small folded piece of parchment, its corners stained red with drying blood, and he offered it forward towards the prince, “One of the guards returned to the city, Hyung. His injuries were so extensive, he could barely walk and collapsed at the gate. Two men carried him to the palace, and they said he had this clutched in his hand.”

 

Himchan took the letter and carefully unfolded its corners to gaze down on the carefully written script. It was a threat, and an ultimatum, and each vile word twisted in Himchan's stomach to leave a vile taste lingering upon his tongue. He read it four times before Youngjae spoke up.

 

“What does it say?”

 

“He doesn't want war. He wants the King.” Himchan said, “A life for a life.”

 

“What?” Daehyun asked, and Jongup took the parchment from where Himchan's fingers were going slack, his eyes skimmed across it.

 

“ _Your King for his whore._ ” He read allowed, taking in the conditions outlined on the parchment.

 

“What do we do?” Junseo asked.

 

“The only thing we can do.” Sungwon replied, “We fight.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took about seventy years. This fic is getting so close to its end, and it is so fkn hard LMFAO but hey life comes first, and I know it isn't perfect but it doesn't have to be. Thank you all for reading, we're almost there x


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> General warning for violence and blood.

When the sun rose on the final day of Summer, Huingol was silent. Stalls and shops were closed for business, temples and stables too, and every man, woman and child were safe and secure behind the locked doors of their modest homes, only peaking out behind linen curtains every now and then to watch the city guards pass them by on their steady patrols. Soldiers lined the walls, and stood stationed at the gates, watching over the sleeping forest for any signs of movement within.

 

The light of the sun was breaching the mountains and shining into their eyes, but still the soldiers stood strong with hands tight around their bows and waited for the coming of fire.

 

In the palace, everything was just as silent as on the city streets. Maids and servants alike kept sheltered in their quarters, while Jonghwan's most trusted walked silently through the corridors, their footsteps echoing off brick walls and tile floors. Not one person in Huingol could know how that day may end, but each one of them offered countless prayers to Noeul herself that their city would not fall.

 

Yongguk stood in the centre of his bedchamber, still as a statue and gazing into his own reflection. His hair was tied tightly into a knot atop his head, with a leather band circling across his forehead to keep stray strands from his eyes, and only his linen under clothes hung from his body, baggy on his narrow form. He had muscle and tone, but ever since he was a child he had never seemed able to put on weight and develop the strong body of a soldier, not like Himchan could. Years ago he used to look at his little brother as they played or bathed and he'd wonder why he had the body of a man, when Yongguk himself felt like little more than a boy in comparison.

 

Burgundy silks lay on the chair before him, and silently the King slipped each arm into a sleeve and fastened the ties around his middle, perfecting each fold and line as he had been taught since he was a boy. Leather rubbed and metal clinked and soon Jongup was approaching over his shoulder. His fingers were curled around a leather breastplate, marked with the insignia of the crown, and carefully he lifted it over Yongguk's head to rest upon his shoulders. Those same nimble fingers fastened each strap and edge to be tight around his middle, jostling him slightly as he did so.

 

“Did Himchan complain this morning, when you climbed from his bed?” His voice was flat, exhausted. He hadn't slept a moment.

 

Jongup glanced over the King's shoulder and their eyes met in the mirror, “No.” He answered, “He went to check on the soldiers, and the guard who arrived last night.”

 

“How is he?” Yongguk watched the way Jongup's eyes returned to their work. He was still familiar with the make of Huingol's armour, even though he had not needed to wear it for years.

 

“I don't know, but he is alive.”

 

“Let's pray he remains that way.” Yongguk sighed. Footsteps approached in the hall outside, and the door was swept open by the stationed guard to allow Himchan entry. A leather and iron breastplate was fastened across his broad chest with sleeves of silk sweeping down over his arms to where he was fastening gauntlets at his wrists. The arch of his brow was knitted together in thought as he looked over towards his elder brother and young love, who paused in their movements to greet him.

 

“You're awake.” The younger brother noted.

 

“I didn't sleep.” Yongguk replied and Himchan shook his head.

 

“No, of course you didn't.” He pressed his thumb between his brows and turned his head to wave his hand in instruction of closing the door. An arm reached in to take hold of the handle, but paused when Yongguk lifted his gaze.

 

“Send for Junseo.” He commanded, “Tell him I wish to speak with him.”

 

“Yes, Your Majesty.” The door fell closed with a heavy thud, and Jongup turned to take hold of the belt he would soon wrap around their King's narrow middle.

 

“The messenger awoke this morning.” Himchan said, pressing his palms together. Slowly he came across the room and lowered himself to sit at the edge of Yongguk's bed. The sheets were still neatly made up from when the maids had tidied the morning before, and in the reflection, Yongguk saw the way his brother fingered mindlessly at loose threads at a blanket's edge, “He says they're gathered in a clearing, merely twenty of them. He said he saw Junhong there.”

 

Yongguk's head turned quickly to look back at his brother, “What did he say of him?”

 

“That he was bound to a tree, bruised but otherwise fine. Apparently he spat in Baek's face at one point.” Himchan's lips twitched with amusement, “There was another, though. A man dressed in black, where the others in the group wear grey uniforms. The boy said he murdered the other guards found patrolling through the trees, and when Baek sent him back to the Palace with his message unharmed, the man in black followed him and cut into his flesh.”

 

Jongup pulled the belt tight around Yongguk's middle, and the King winced. He turned back to the youngest Moon, “Only twenty men.” Jongup noted, “Baek is overconfident his terms will be met without fault.”

 

“Either that, or it's a trap.” Himchan replied and Jongup pursed his lips.

 

“It is most definitely a trap.” He agreed.

 

“We must stay aware.” Himchan turned towards his brother, “Jongin and I will ride to the clearing with you and the others will hold back and wait until we have Junhong.”

 

Yongguk's teeth pressed together at his brother's tone and he held out his right hand for Jongup to begin fastening the gauntlet around his wrist. It was risky, their plan, and the number of lives it placed in danger exceeded far beyond those who would ride with him into the forest. Innocent people lived in Huingol, and as their King Yongguk would never stand for a single drop of their blood to be spilled because of him.

 

“Himchan I would much prefer it if-”

 

“I know what you'd prefer.” His brother cut him off, and his expression was knotted with seriousness again, “And it is not going to happen. We will follow the plan.”

 

“And if the plan fails?”

 

“It won't.”

 

Jongup glanced silently between the brothers and released Yongguk's right hand to move on to the left. The sleeves of his silk shirt were billowing out from beneath his breastplate, the rich crimson of the silk flowing like blood over his skin. Jongup smoothed the fabric down with a gentle brush of his hand, then wound the gauntlet around his wrist atop it to protect his vulnerable veins from the slashing of a blade.

 

“Charu wants to ride with us.” Himchan said, his tone had softened. Yongguk was grateful, he didn't have the energy to fight.

 

“No.” The King said, “I want him in the city with Yejin, Yongnam needs to be kept safe.”

 

Himchan's mouth pressed into a line and he watched the way Jongup's fingers worked across latches and buckles, fastening the armour to their king. Finally, Yongguk was ready, and he wrapped his hand around his wrist, twisting the leather absently to get comfortable. He'd worn this armour many times in his life, for practicing and play, but now that it hugged his body, it left a knot twisting in his stomach.

 

“Himchan, if I die...”

 

“You're not going to die.” Himchan said immediately.

 

Yongguk felt his chest tighten at his brother's words and continued, “But it is possible that I will, and if I do, I need you to promise me that you will take control. Junhong would make a fine steward with your guidance, at least until Yongnam is old enough to take the throne. I need you to promise me that you will keep them safe, no matter what happens. Give me your word.”

 

Himchan's teeth pressed together and he shook his head, “I don't need to give you my word. You're not going to die.”

 

Knuckles rapped against the door again, and the brother's broke eye contact as Yongguk turned.

 

“Enter.” he called, and the door was pushed open to allow Junseo entrance. His hair was a mess of tangled knots, as though he had been pulling at the strands only moments before with anxiety of their day to come. The plain robes he had worn upon his arrival in the valley had been removed, and in their place Junseo wore the rich deep red silks of a Huingol soldier's uniform, paired with riding boots and a leather belt. The clothing was slightly too big for him, and Yongguk guessed it had been robes left over once all others had been dressed.

 

“Your Majesty.” The man greeted with a dip of his head.

 

“There is still a lot to be done.” Jongup spoke up, his palm pressing to the centre of Himchan's back. The prince conceded with a nod and a glance again towards his elder brother.

 

“I should meet with Jongin.” He said, and Yongguk smiled.

 

“I will meet you in the stables.”

 

The lovers slipped from the room quietly, and once more the door was pulled closed by stationed guards and Junseo and Yongguk were left in silence. The king turned his head back towards his reflection and finally took in the sight of himself. His own hair had been a mess by the time dawn had arrived, and only Jongup's patient silence had been enough to encourage him into stillness for long enough to allow the soldier boy to work it into a uniformed style. It was funny to him, how easily he could sit in Jongup's presence. He had noticed it during the boy's first days in the palace, all those years ago, when he would stand stoically beside his King and gaze at the carved bricks of the opposite wall, always waiting for the moment when Yongguk would need him. When he had first learned of Himchan's infatuation with the boy he had felt nothing but anger, but it did not take him long to realise what he had assumed to be childish jealousy was the first bloom of love. That summer he let go of Jongup and Daehyun into the arms of those who loved them, he guessed maybe the time had come for him to do the same for Junhong.

 

Behind him, Junseo walked quietly across the room. His eyes were curious as he took in the sight of the tidy bed, trinkets perched across the windowsill, and books lining the walls. Yongguk's gaze shifted from the image of his own face to instead watch as Junseo's fingertips ran over the small chest positioned at the side of the bed, and the leather bound book that sat atop it. Its spine was cracked with age, its pages fraying, clearly the tome was well loved.

 

“That was the first book Junhong ever read to me.” Yongguk broke the silence, and Junseo jumped. For a brief moment, Yongguk wondered if the southerner had forgotten he was there. Junseo turned his head and their eyes met in the mirror, Yongguk continued, “Not long after he arrived in the valley, he saw it on the shelf in one of my libraries. I knew he couldn't understand it, but some evenings he would look through the pages and try to make sense of the shapes painted there, as though if he stared long enough he could figure them out. He studied for hours a day, until he had gained sufficient confidence to read it to me a few pages at a time.”

 

“Did you teach him?” Junseo asked, glancing down at the book again. The cover was blank, but across the spine it read _Tales from Huingol_ etched in gold.

 

“It was mostly Youngjae, with help from Jongup too, or Daehyun when he had time.” Yongguk watched as Junseo reached out to touch the book, but drew his hand back before he could make contact, “I don't believe I make a very good teacher.”

 

“You love him, don't you?” Suddenly Junseo had turned back towards him again, eyes boring into Yongguk's through his reflection. His gaze held an intensity, it burned with something stronger than the anger shown from him those days before, and Yongguk felt his lips twitching into the faintest hint of a smile.

 

“Yes, Junseo. I love him.” The book was forgotten on the side table, and the two men faced one another.

 

“I remember the first time he told me of you. The brother he lost.” Yongguk continued, “We were bathing together late at night and I asked him about his childhood. I had been telling him tales of my own, about my brother and my sister, he always loved hearing of how we were raised together between the Palace walls. At first he didn't seem to know how to answer me, but then he told me a story about two brothers and their attempt at sailing to the edge of the world, and how they were thwarted back to shore by rocking waves. He told me about how you threw him overboard before the boat could crack against the rocks, and how you followed him in and dragged him to shore.”

 

Junseo's face was blank as he listened to the story. Yongguk knew he must remember it well, he doubted the man was capable of forgetting a moment spent with his brother.

 

“ _I'm scared._ He told me he said that to you, and he still remembered what you said in reply.”

 

“ _I won't let anything happen to you, little one”_ Junseo murmured, _“I promise.”_

 

“Himchan tells me you wish to accompany us into the forest today. I am aware that Sungwon has trained you well with a sword.” Yongguk watched as Junseo nodded his head.

 

“For four years, I believed my promise to Junhong had been broken. I will do anything to keep him safe.”

 

The King nodded his head in satisfaction, “My brother and General Moon have made a plan that will ensure both Junhong and my safe return to the city, but Baek is unpredictable. I do not know what he is capable of, none of us do. I am sure that by now Baek has taken control of the mountain pass, the only road in and out of Huingol.” Yongguk reached forward and took hold of the bound book sat atop the chest. He opened the cover and turned to the third page, a map of the valley.

 

“On the far side of the valley there is a lake. It is fed from a stream that comes through the mountains here.” The tip of his slender finger traced a line between two peaks, “If you follow it up to its source it will lead you to the mouth of a path that carries down and out of the valley. You will end up in the woods, but less than a mile beyond there is the road east, towards the coast.”

 

Junseo frowned, his eyes following every gesture of fingers across parchment, “Why are you telling me this?”

 

“Because if I am killed today there is nothing left to guarantee his safety.” Yongguk lifted his head, “If the plan fails, take Junhong and run. Go south, back to Sungwon's city, rebuild your village or take a boat and try for the edge of the world again. Do anything you wish, as long as you keep him safe.”

 

“What if he refuses?” Junseo asked.

 

Yongguk's fingers curled into the old parchment and tore the map from its place. With care not to crumple it, he folded it in half, then in quarters and held it out for Junseo to take, “Then tell him I have asked you to do it.”

 

Outside in the hall, footsteps approached and passed. More and more guards were passing by with every new moment, and Yongguk knew they were preparing to defend their city against war.

 

“I'll take him.” Junseo said, “You have my word.”

 

Yongguk bowed his head with respect towards the younger, and offered him a smile, “You may go, Sungwon must wish to see you. It isn't long now.”

 

Junseo nodded and stepped back, though he hesitated at the door. Yongguk watched him expectantly until he spoke.

 

“He never wanted to leave, you know.” He said, and something tightened inside of Yongguk's chest.

 

“If he had told me he wished to follow you home, I wouldn't have stopped him.” He replied. Junseo tilted his head to the side and smiled sadly.

 

“He would never leave you behind.”

 

*

 

The stable swam with movement. Soldiers and generals were walking in every direction and Youngjae felt like he was drowning in their tide. Horses whinnied as heavy leather saddles were lay across their backs and secured around their girths with gentle strokes and soothing words whispered into their ears. It was unparalleled, the love that Huingol city folk had for their steeds, and the faith the creatures had for them in turn. At first, years before when Youngjae had first found his way beyond the golden walls of the great city, he had found it strange to see man living alongside beast with such a reliance. Ever since he was a boy, Youngjae had accompanied his Lord on journeys across the peninsula from mountains to coast, but it was not until he set foot in the capital that he first found himself feeling foreign.

 

“Jae.” A familiar voice called and the Northerner jumped and slipped from his thoughts. He turned his head to where Daehyun stood beside his saddled horse with an inquisitive and concerned expression, but the servant boy smiled.

 

“Are you ready?” He asked. Nimble fingers brushed against the straps of Daehyun's leather breastplate. He decided then that he hated the sight of armour on Daehyun.

 

“Of course. Yongguk should be arriving soon.” The Southerner's brow was furrowed together as he looked around them, watching as soldiers straightened their weapons at their hips and hand fed their equine companions small treats. Many of those horses had been hand reared by their owners over years, and Youngjae knew there was nothing Huingol's soldiers trusted more than them.

 

“How many of them are going to die?” Youngjae asked. Daehyun's hand found his shoulder and squeezed. He didn't want to answer that.

 

The crowd of people around them was growing thicker and tighter, and Youngjae stepped in towards Daehyun until their chests were almost touching. No one paid them any mind as they passed, and the Northern boy took the chance to breathe in the scent of his Southern love, all dark wood and leather with the faintest hint of salt he could never quite shake off.

 

“You'll be careful, won't you?” He asked and Daehyun smiled.

 

“Only if you promise me the same.”

 

“I will be safe in the palace while you are out there protecting Yongguk. My safety won't be nearly as threatened as yours.” Youngjae's lips turned into a frown and he pressed a palm against Daehyun's chest, but the elder had caught sight of something over Youngjae's shoulder.

 

“Look.” He said, and Youngjae turned.

 

By an open stall, Kim Sungwon stood with his hands resting on Junseo's shoulders and together they stood in deep discussion. Their bodies were clad in the red of Huingol's uniform, but it didn't quite seem to fit their Southern skin, and it was clear that the General's armour was of a different make. A pit of guilt twisted in Youngjae's stomach at how readily he had come to conclusions about Sungwon's guilt, and as the man pressed a warm kiss to Junseo's forehead, Youngjae knew they were lucky to have the General on their side.

 

“Make way for the King.” Jongin's voice called through the rumbling of conversation, and the soldiers parted for Yongguk to sweep through, the three Moon brothers and Himchan not far behind. Youngjae's eyes lingered on the wooden bow slung across Jongup's chest. It surprised him that the young Prince had so readily allowed his lover to join them in the forest, but then again the whole of Huingol knew no one was as good of a shot as him.

 

“Your Majesty.” A stable hand said, approaching fast with a saddle hooked over his arm, “We will prepare Gibeom for you.”

 

Yongguk turned his head towards the chestnut stallion who stood faithful in his stall. The beast that had carried him from Huingol to the sea and home again stood tall and strong, with a muscled body bred to ride through the force of war and Youngjae knew he was reliable but the King turned his head from his chestnut body and instead looked to Yeona. The mare fluttered her lashes and stepped closer to the edge of her stall so that she could reach out her nose towards him. Over the year previous, the bond she had built with Junhong had been a surprise to all, but no horse could forget the hand the reared them.

 

“Saddle Yeona.” The King commanded as he brushed his palm gently along her forehead, “There is no one else I trust more to bring me home.”

 

“We ride North, into the forest and towards the lake.” Himchan began, and those most trusted pressed towards him. Youngjae was swept closer, too, his body warmed between Daehyun and Sungwon, facing Jongin, Jonghwan, Jongup, Junseo, the King himself, friends he hardly knew, and others knew too well.

 

“Here is the plan...”

 

*

 

Junhong's hands were going numb behind his back. The tree he was pressed against was starting to dig into his skin, but he did not give his captors the satisfaction of wincing each time he moved as they readied for battle around him. It was late afternoon and the sun was starting to set, sending long shadows over the figures as they slowly dismantled any sign of their camp and strapped weapons at their hips. By his feet a cicada shell lay decaying amongst fallen leaves, its side cracked open to allow the small bodies of crawling ants to slip between its thorax and abdomen. No meat was left inside, of course, but still their feelers twitched from side to side, searching for some morsel of food they could carry home on their tiny backs to the queen who lay far down beneath the earth. Junhong thought for a moment of how he must appear like a giant to them, some kind of monster far outside their range of understanding. So easily he could crush that shell under the weight of his heel until it was nothing more than paper thin fragments, ready to blow away on the wind and take each small ant with it. Yet they carried forwards and onwards without fear, unknowing of how easily they could die.

 

Black leather boots came down on the earth before Junhong, and with a sharp crisp crunch, the shell was flattened.

 

He lifted his head into the light of the sun to where the Man in Black stood over him, lips twisting with dislike and hair falling into his eyes. Up close he was different to what Junhong had anticipated, younger and familiar in a way he couldn't quite put his finger on. An ugly scar crossed from his cheek to his hairline, and it struck the Prince for a moment how alike Jongin he was in both age and appearance, but where the eldest Moon child was soft at the edges, this man was hard and sharp.

 

The rope twisted across Junhong's chest went slack and fingers sunk into the flesh of his shoulders and he was wrenched up to his feet, “Come on.” The man said, “It's time.”

 

Through the trees they walked in silence. Sticks and leaves crunched beneath their feet, leather rubbed against leather and weapons chimed at their sides. In each soldier's hand was held a torch for light, the flames flickering around the fuel soaked rags tied at each top, and illuminating the trees around them. Lord Baek took the lead with a stony face, followed second by Cha Seoyoung and then the Man in Black, who's hand was still held tightly around Junhong's bicep, pulling him at his side until they reached an open clearing, and the Prince was once more forced down to his knees.

 

“How do you know there won't be an army?” Junhong turned his head and Lord Baek stopped.

 

The man turned and glanced down at him, “Because if there is, I'll kill you.” He said simply.

 

“You're very confident in the value the King puts on my life.” Junhong's fingers twisted together behind his back, “Maybe he will not even come.”

 

“He already has.” Lord Baek nodded forward towards the trees, and Junhong turned his head. Faintly he could hear the low thud of hooves on the ground approaching slowly until three horses broke through the barrier and into the clearing. Himchan sat astride Honggyu's strong back, Jongin astride his Mare and in the centre was Yongguk and Yeona.

 

“Your Majesty.” Baek offered Yongguk a flourished bow, his lips curved into a smirk.

 

“Release him.” The King replied. All three men sat stony faced atop their steeds, fingers curved around reins.

 

“This is an exchange, Your Majesty. Fair is fair.”

 

“Don't do it, he wants to kill you!” Junhong said aloud. Lord Baek's head turned and his lips twitched with anger, triggering him to push a hard shove into Junhong's back, sending the prince sprawling across the dirt. Stones and sticks dug into his skin and his wrists twisted together behind his back.

 

“Shut up.” He spat. The man in black moved forward and sunk his fingers into the thick tangle of Junhong's hair, using the leverage to pull him back up to sit and smirking with satisfaction at the Prince's hisses of pain.

 

“Release him.” Yongguk repeated himself, and Junhong saw his knuckles turning white where he gripped hard onto his reins, “Before I lose my patience.”

 

“Your patience is not a factor here, King, only your obedience is. This is an exchange, you for the whore.” Junhong could hear Baek's tone turn tense.

 

“You cannot come into my Valley and threaten my people.” Yongguk bit back, “You have no footing here, Baek, and I will never hand myself over to you.”

 

“Fine.” Lord Baek's shoulders relaxed and for a moment he was silent. Deep breaths were taken through his nose and released through his mouth until finally he said, “Kill him.”

 

The Man in Black tightened his grip on Junhong's hair and pulled his head back to expose his throat and for a moment Yongguk's stony face broke into an expression of fear, before he dragged back the composure he needed, and hid himself behind his stable mask again. As the cold blade of a knife pressed to Junhong's skin, he closed his eyes. From through the trees, he could hear a bird calling and leaves rustling together as the evening breeze picked up. A soft whistle came after, then a whisper of air followed by the dreadful sound of breaking skin and blood rising in a choking throat.

 

The metal blade dropped from Junhong's neck and the Man in Black fell with a thud into the grass, blood spilling around him, and the shaft of a slender arrow protruding from the hollow of his throat. Birds took to the sky, startled from their roosts and all in the clearing stared, paralysed for that brief second until the King shouted out, “Junhong run!”

 

As though awoken from a trance, grey clad soldiers pressed forward and towards the three men mounted upon their horses, but before Junhong could manage rising to his feet with his hands still bound, Lord Baek took hold of his arm. He stumbled, almost fell but caught himself against Baek's side just in time to be dragged between the trees and out of sight. The Lord had snatched a burning torch from the hand of his soldier as he dragged Junhong into the dark and away from the voices that called after them. He could hear Yongguk and Himchan, as well as Jonghwan and Daehyun too, each releasing shouts and cries as the first echoes of metal on metal rang out.

 

“Where are you taking me?” Junhong asked as he stumbled again and Baek had to haul him with all his might to keep him upright.

 

“Shut up!” The man snapped, shoving his elbow once into Junhong's side, and the Prince had to bite his lip to stop the sound of pain that threatened to come forth. Footsteps were already following from behind them, but he didn't have time to turn back as he was dragged deeper into the forest, and towards the broad lake beyond. It was a trap, he was sure it always had been. The number of soldiers Baek had brought with him far outweighed those he allowed Yongguk, and Junhong had little doubt that with the King dead, the rest would soon follow, and now with Junhong still gripped tightly in his hand, Baek still had the bait he needed to achieve his bloody goal.

 

“Junhong?!” A voice called through the trees and the Prince turned his head, blood running cold. Junseo was hot on their heels, his voice desperately calling out to the little brother he couldn't fail to protect again.

 

“Here! Over he-” Baek silenced him with another elbow in his side, but this time he did not mute himself. He cried out in pain and tried to pull away, even with his arms bound, he knew he could still run.

 

Suddenly, they broke through the trees and entered another clearing and Baek was looking frantically around, trying to decide his best direction, but those following were too close behind. Footsteps thud against the ground, and less than a moment later, Sungwon and Junseo were breaching the line together, weapons already drawn and chests heaving from the sprint.

 

“Release him, Baek.” Sungwon called across the clearing, “You can't win.”

 

“Getting in my way is a mistake, Kim.” Baek spat back at him, tightening his grip on Junhong's bicep, bringing a hiss through the boy's teeth.

 

The expression on Sungwon's face was stable and calculated, and it was clear to Junhong that he had a life of training in preparation for moments like that which lay before him. Junseo on the other hand was not gifted with Sungwon's stoicism. Instead, his brows were furrowed and eyes frantic as he glanced between his little brother and Lord Baek, his knuckles white where he gripped tightly onto the handle of his sword.

 

In one swift movement, Sungwon lunged forward with his sword ready, and Lord Baek had to stumble back to avoid the slashing of his blade. With little care, he pushed the Prince to the ground and sprawling in the dirt, leaving his hand free to draw his own weapon from his hip and this time, as Sungwon brought his sword down again it was deflected with a loud clash of metal on metal.

 

Junhong watched as Junseo stepped forward and towards him, but Baek was fast and before the elder Choi could close the distance between them, he was pushing Sungwon's form back with enough force to have their bodies colliding and both men stumbled once more. Junseo dropped his sword in the dirt and it slid out of reach from the force, causing the man to curse aloud and scramble after it towards the tree line as the General rose to his feet.

 

“Huingol will never be yours!” Sungwon shouted, extending his sword arm once more.

 

In the light of the flickering flames, Lord Baek tipped his head to the side and smirked, “I don't want it to be mine.” He took a step forward, “I want it to burn.” And with that, he dropped the torch to the ground.

 

Flames took hold of the dry leaves at their feet, crackled and grew as fire sucked in more and more of the ground into its burning hold. Sungwon leapt forward and towards the Lord just as the first of the flames licked at the nearby trees, slipping beneath their bark and burning into their trunks. The two men stumbled together, their blades singing as they clashed together again and again, each movement growing less rehearsed, more desperate. The smoke was thickening already, and soon Junhong could hardly see across the clearing to where Junseo stood, eyes wide with fear and helpless with the wall of flames only growing between them.

 

Lord Baek's elbow shoved hard into Sungwon's side and the general stumbled forward, barely able to catch himself against a tree before he was turning again just in time to parry a slashing blow. He did not have time to make a mistake, but their lungs and noses were starting to burn, their eyes stinging. Junhong's fingers twisted together behind his back and he was starting to cough against the bitter burn in his throat as Junseo shouted, “Sungwon, watch out!” But he was too late.

 

It seemed to happen in slow motion, as all the worst things do. One moment Sungwon was standing tall with his weapon raised, the next Baek's sword stuck him through like a pig readied for the fire and blood bloomed through his silks and tumbled like a waterfall over the edge of his body. Junhong watched in horror as the man stumbled forward and dropped to his knees, coughing up the blood rising in his oesophagus, and yet even then Baek had no mercy. In one clean movement, the southern Lord withdrew his sword from Sungwon's belly and plunged it cleanly into his chest.

 

Only once Sungwon had gone limp did Junhong register the sound of his brother screaming. His voice was desperate and broken, chanting _No. No. No-_ repeatedly, as though his pleading would somehow change what had happened. Junhong's heart was pounding in his ears, his face flushed red and he did the only thing he could think to do. He ran.

 

As Lord Baek hunched over the body of his fallen friend, Junhong managed to scramble to his feet and with hands still bound, he ran. The wind was picking up, and he could hear the crackling of flames as they spread from leaf to leaf, tree to tree and readied to engulf the entire forest in their burning hell. Ahead, the ground was starting to incline, rising up onto a ridge above the valley, and Junhong knew it could not be much further until he reached the cliffs that framed the lake's western edge.

 

The toe of his leather boot caught under a tree root and he stumbled and almost fell, colliding with the trunk of an old oak. Acrid smoke was burning his throat, he could hardly breathe and before he had the chance to move again, hands grabbed at his arms and stopped him.

 

“Let me go!” Junhong shouted, struggling in Baek's hold. Tears were burning at his eyes, from the fire, from frustration and fear, his body shaking as he tried to pull free and he cried out as Lord Baek's fingers dug into his flesh, leaving behind crescented marks of fingernails in skin, “Please let me go!”

 

“Baek.” A voice called through the darkness and finally the tears spilled over.

 

“No...” Junhong choked on the word, refusing to open his eyes. He did not want to see the light of advancing flames illuminating Yongguk's face; he did not want to witness the moment when the King offered his life in exchange for Junhong's own.

 

“Let him go.” Yongguk said, “You don't want him. You want me.”

 

The bitter tone of a sharp laugh echoed in Junhong's ears, “You're a fool, King. You are cornered, there is no way for you to run.”

 

Finally, Junhong looked. Mere metres ahead of them stood Yongguk, his hair falling from its binds and his uniform and skin both filthy with mud and ash and blood from people unknown. In his right hand he held on to the hilt of his sword, and behind him the earth crumbled and dropped into the lake below.

 

“Release him!” Yongguk said again. He was shouting over the roar of the advancing fire, his hair whipping across his face as the wind built.

 

Above their heads came a deafening crack as a broad branch of an aging tree was split apart from the heat of the flames and as Baek looked up, Junhong took the chance to stomp his heel hard down onto his foot, drawing forth a shout of pain from the enraged Lord. The prince struggled forward and attempted to break free, but nails dug again into his flesh and forced him back until his right arm pressed against the burning wood, and fire licked at his silken sleeves and tender flesh, tearing screams of agony from Junhong's throat. He felt sick from the pain, but adrenaline soon followed and this time, with a hard shove from his left elbow, he broke free of Baek's hold and rushed forward until he was caught in the arms of his loving King.

 

Yongguk smelled of sweat and soil and home, and his arms wound tightly around Junhong's middle. Easily he fit the edge of his blade between Junhong's hands and sliced at the rope binds around his wrists, allowing the Prince to cradle his burned arm against his chest.

 

A scream of anger came from Baek as he stabilised himself once more, his face twisted with hatred, “I will kill you both!” He shouted, spittle flying from his dry lips as he once more drew his sword. The fire was at his heels, the trees all around them succumbing one by one and Baek began his advance towards them.

 

“I'm sorry.” Junhong gasped, “I'm so sorry...”

 

“Hush, my jewel.” Yongguk murmured and calloused fingers released the hilt of his bloodied sword and instead lifted to cup the back of Junhong's head, “Do you trust me?” He asked, lips pressed right against Junhong's ear.

 

Junhong heard the sound of the sword landing on the ground at their feet and he closed his eyes, “I've always trusted you.”

 

“Then hold your breath.” Yongguk said, and Junhong did just that as the King stepped back over the edge and together they fell into the darkness below.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello it is me I have returned contrary to popular belief I have not died I am still very much alive and also incredibly sorry it took me so long to post this chapter. Since part 10 I have been sick (twice), taken some family time to celebrate my birthday and work a ridiculous amount extra so I just haven't had time. Thank you so much for your patience, I hope this was worth the wait.
> 
> I'm sorry if it is rough and not very well done. Almost there now x


	12. Epilogue

_Bodies fell fast through the air, and met water with a heavy splash and a shock of cold. Arms that had once been tight around Junhong disappeared with the force of the collision, and he was left reaching out blindly. For a moment, the tips of his fingers brushed the edge of a silk robe but he couldn't grip onto it fast enough, and too soon Yongguk was slipping out of his reach and he was left falling, falling still. His eyes stung against the push of the water, all dark murk and misty blue around him other than the yellow and red of flames dancing above the surface, like exploding constellations in the night sky. The weight of his clothes around him pulled him down, his badly burned arm unable to move against the agony even as he tried and tried again to push back against the downward pull, but he couldn't fight it as the lights grew fainter, the lake bed nearer. His lungs ached, and he opened his mouth to cry out, to call for Yongguk through the water, to call for Junseo, Himchan, Sungwon, his mother, his father, anyone to come and save him but water filled his mouth and his nose, his ears, his throat until he was choking, gasping, drowning._

 

_The base of his spine was the first thing to touch the lake bed, and soon his back met the smooth stones, worn with age and caressed by water. The red silk of his burned and torn sleeves billowed and swayed around him, like seaweed caught in a tide, or leaves rustled by the wind. When Junhong opened his eyes again, he couldn't see the lights above the surface anymore, he could barely even hear his heartbeat as it thumped in his ears, but when he turned his head, he could see Yongguk's lifeless eyes open and staring, clear as day._

 

Junhong woke with a start. His body was drenched with sweat, his breaths laboured and the sheets and blankets tight around his body and he felt trapped. For a moment, the world around him seemed to rock and twist until all of a sudden it was still, and he was breathing again. The weight of the covers over him was hot and uncomfortable and he was quick to push them from him with a sigh of relief as cold air cooled the sweat on his skin. Beside him, a body moved and stirred and he turned his head towards the face he knew well. Brows furrowed, lips pursed as eyes moved behind lids and Junhong hoped he was dreaming of warm sun and open fields, blue birds swooping through the sky and anything else more welcome than the dark depths that tormented Junhong. With care to be silent, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood to dress and slip from the bedchamber into the hallway beyond, a heavy coat gripped tightly in his fingers.

 

He hadn't bothered with shoes, and the sound of his bare feet meeting the cold stone floor echoed with that of rubbing armour and chiming metal as guards watched him pass through doors and halls, until he was stepping out across a courtyard, and climbing the wall. Only the first light was starting to wash the mountains gold, and when Junhong exhaled, his breath came out in white fog, matching the silver dust of frost coating the grass spread out before Huingol's great walls. It wasn't winter yet, but it wasn't summer anymore either and the forest had long since faded from rich greens into warm reds, oranges, golds and yellows. When the sun set in the evenings and the autumn winds blew, the tousled leaves looked like dancing flames and sometimes, when Junhong stood on the wall and watched them, he could remember the feeling of the fire's heat on his face, the acrid smoke filling his nose and mouth right down to his lungs until he was choking and gasping for relief.

 

It had burned right up until the moment their bodies hit the water. The collision had been harder than he expected and his skin stung from the impact, but still Yongguk's arms never pulled from where they held tight around his middle. At first, they had sunk until their legs kicked hard and they fought together to keep their heads above the surface even as the smoke suffocated them. Yongguk had been the first to work at the clothes pulling them down, he managed to strip himself of the belt and scabbard around his middle, then the fastenings at the front of his robes and Junhong followed until they were light enough to swim across the surface, white linen underclothes clinging to their wet skin. Junhong couldn't remember how far they swam, but they had hauled themselves up onto the pebbled beach and fallen back panting, gasping, coughing water from their lungs. By the time they were laying still, the rain had began but neither man fought to seek shelter from it and with hands clasped together and eyes closed, they welcomed the sky to wash over their skin and cleanse the earth.

 

The air was icy, and Junhong wrapped the coat around him. It was one of Yongguk's and Junhong had used it so much in the past weeks it barely smelled of him anymore but still his fingers curled around the sleeves and he brought it up to his nose, sucked it in. From there he could clearly see the parts of the forest taken by the fire. They were black and burned, no leaves left to die in autumn's fade, nor any branches remaining strong enough to hold the birds yet to fly south.

 

Sometime after the clouds had gathered, Junhong had fallen asleep with his head resting on pebbles, and the lake's water still lapping at his feet. The smoke of the burning fire clung to their drenched clothes but the flames did not reach them as rain continued to beat down on the valley, and soldiers feet came running through the trees to bring victory for Huingol.

 

It was Jongup who reached them first. He had dropped down to his knees, hands pressing to pulse points on them both and releasing a sigh of relief when he felt their hearts beating, steady and reliable, and he called over others to help carry them home while Baek's men were rounded up and dragged back through the city in chains. Jongin had ridden out the next morning, soldiers close behind on a mission from the King to track down all conspirators against the crown, and bring the weight of Huingol down upon them.

 

Metal armour chimed as a guard passed Junhong by and he leant closer towards the edge, arms folded across the banister and his chin leaning down upon them. Good men had lost their lives that night in the fight to keep both Baek's men and the flames from toppling the walls of Huingol, and for some it had taken days to recover their bodies as embers still glowed through the night and Jonghwan deemed it unsafe. It had not been until the searchers made it up onto the ridge that they found Lord Baek, his body charred beyond recognition and half buried under the weight of fallen branches. Daehyun said he must have died mere moments after Yongguk and Junhong had taken their leap, but Junhong couldn't help but feel dissatisfied with that. He had held out hope that he could witness the fading lord rot alongside Cha Seoyoug in the stinking damp of the dungeons buried deep below the Eastern Wall.

 

“Did you have the nightmare again?” Junhong's head lifted as he heard the voice. Junseo stepped up onto the wall, his skin glowing in the early light and his brows twitching with worry.

 

“I did.” Junhong replied, turning back towards the forest. It was eerily quiet that early, most of the birds had already gone and many other animals big and small had fled to the valley's edges to escape the fire.

 

“Who was it this time?” Junseo came to a stop beside his brother and brushed his palm over the back of Junhong's head. For a moment, the Prince closed his eyes and sighed, it was still as comforting as it had been all those years before when he had been just a little boy.

 

“It was Yongguk this morning.” Junhong shivered, “Mama the night before... And you the night before that.”

 

Junseo grimaced, his palm sliding down the back of Junhong's neck to settle at the centre of his spine, “I thought they were over.”

 

“Not quite.”

 

In the years since his village had been raided, Junhong's nightmares had faded from nightly to a rare occurrence when he felt most tired or stressed, but the smell of smoke in his nose, the burn of it in his eyes and lick of flames to his flesh had proven to be a reminder he had not wanted. The fear came back with a force for which he had been ill prepared.

 

“How is your arm?” Junseo steered the topic as he rubbed his thumb in small circles, a distracting rhythm on Junhong's back.

 

“It's fine.” Junhong twitched his fingers and tugged down his sleeve. The wound was healing without issue, but left behind was a pattern of mottled flesh wrapped around his forearm where once the skin had been fair and soft. Some nights, Yongguk would draw the arm from where Junhong tried to hide it from his sight and brush his knuckles against it in slow and loving strokes.

 

“ _You're beautiful to me.”_ He reminded as lips followed where fingers teased but it still made Junhong's skin crawl as his eyes traced the scarred lines in their painful patterns. Accidental in their form, cruel in memory.

 

“Why are you awake so early?” Junhong asked.

 

“Jonghwan sent me. He says Jongin is coming home.”

 

Junhong turned his head, brows furrowing, “Already?”

 

“Lord Baek spoke big, but only few knew of his planning. There weren't many left who had not already denounced his name. Most of his friends had known Sungwon, and his father.” Junseo's fingers threaded together and twisted side to side, an old habit when he was uncomfortable. Junhong could see his knuckles going white.

 

“He's missed. Even here.” It was the younger's turn to press his palm to Junseo's back, thumb rubbing.

 

A heavy silence took place between them. It reminded Junhong of the afternoons they would spend by the sea as boys. At first, it would begin with talking and laughing, childish games that Junhong started, and his big brother always played along. Eventually, though, they'd sit side by side, content together with the age difference fading in consequence as they looked out over the water to where clouds rolled in from the south, tall and billowing like castles in the sky.

 

“Don't go.” Junhong said, finally.

 

Junseo looked down. The breeze was picking up and it brought with it chill from the snow already appearing at the tips of the surrounding mountains. The brothers pressed closer together for warmth.

 

“The first snow will fall soon and the pass will close before too long. That city by the sea was never a home to me, Junhong, not like our village was, or like you are, but it was Sungwon's. There are people there who love him, people who have shown me kindness for a long time. I should be the one to bring him home.”

 

“And what about when the snow melts?”

 

“Yongguk sent for me, last night when you were studying.” Junseo tilted his head back, and Junhong was frowning, “He wanted to know the same thing.”

 

“And?” The younger urged.

 

“He made me an offer. A bed of my own, work for as long as I wish for it, a chance to start again and learn skills and trade, to make something of myself. Things that I know many across the peninsula would kill for, but he kept silent on the one thing I know he truly meant.” Junseo chuckled, his hand rubbing across the back of his neck. Junhong could see that his eyes were tired, bags creased and blue underneath them.

 

“He was offering you a life with opportunity.” Junhong said.

 

“He was offering me a life with you.” Junseo corrected, “Silks and riches, pens and paper, golden halls, he knows that I don't belong. Not like Daehyun-ssi or Youngjae-ssi, those three brothers Moon, or any of the clerks that walk these halls, but he doesn't care. He would still give it all to me, regardless of the fact that I can barely read more than a page of script because he knows it would make you happy.”

 

“I know that Huingol is nothing like Sungwon's city, or where we grew up. The mountains and the forest cannot be enough for you.” Junhong's fingers rubbed together, just the tips. The cool morning air had his hands feeling stiff, and he stared down at his red skin as his throat felt tight, “Not when you compare it to the sea.”

 

“I would leave the sea a thousand times, Junhong, if it meant coming home to you.” Junseo's hand lifted and he curved his palm, warm and safe over cold fingers.

 

Across the field, a young doe slipped through the trees. Her cloven feet sunk into the frosty grass as she nuzzled down into it to take hold between her teeth and rip it up from its roots. The frost melted between her lips and across her tongue, sweet like fresh dew. A sound came from behind her and she lifted her head, ears standing tall and alert as she watched another doe follow her into the open, then a fawn from the spring passed, still standing close beside his mother for protection and assurance. Finally they were joined by a strong stag. One of his antlers had already fallen, while the other stood tall from beside his left ear like a lopsided crown atop his head and he watched over his growing herd with pride as they took in their fill of remaining green. Soon the whole field would be covered in snow and they would have to feed by ripping bark from trees until the relief of Spring came again. Junhong hoped the winter wouldn't be too harsh for them.

 

“Do you remember the summer we found the cherry tree?” Junseo asked, his eyes focused on the stag as he too joined his herd in their feast.

 

“You made me climb up and pick them.” Junhong said.

 

“You were much smaller than me, I knew you would be light enough to reach out on the thinner branches.” Junseo was grinning already, “You were so scared.”

 

“I didn't realise how high I had climbed until I was already there.” Junhong frowned, his head turning towards the elder, “And you just laughed at me! I nearly fell!”

 

“I caught you, didn't I?” Junseo laughed, eyes shining bright and Junhong had to smile, too, because Junseo had caught him. Like he always would.

 

“Junhong?” The two brothers turned again, just as Youngjae made it atop the wall. The wind brushed through his hair, and burgundy dress robes already hugged his form, “It's time to get ready.”

 

Junhong couldn't let go of his brother quite yet, “You won't leave before the ceremony, will you?” He asked.

 

Junseo's hand slipped around to the back of Junhong's head again and slowly, he drew him in closer to press lips to forehead in a loving and brotherly kiss. Down below them, horses broke through the trees at a canter, startling the deer and sending them running back in to the forest. Youngjae joined the two brothers by the edge and watched as the heavy city gates were opened to allow Jongin and his men through and into Huingol's warm and welcoming embrace.

 

“I will not leave until I see that crown sitting upon your head, Your Highness.” Junseo grinned, and Junhong did too.

 

*

 

Junhong had only ever seen a coronation splashed in paint across stone walls, and printed on the pages of his books, and he had never thought the world capable of creating something so grand. When Youngjae lead him back into the Palace, it was to a steaming bath scented with chestnut rose

and sandalwood oil. The Northern man combed through his hair and washed his skin, then painted a line of fragrant Mugunghwa oil across his chest and over his heart, a symbol of his unity under Noeul with the reigning king. When dry, he was wrapped tight in blue undergarments of silk, then dressed in a layered hanbok with each stretch of fabric dyed a different shade of sunset warmth, starting with exquisite gold and fading through yellows and oranges, and finished off with a crimson sash around his middle. Gold chains were fastened around his neck and wrists each one intricately hand crafted centuries before and had graced the skin of many queens before him.

 

“You're beautiful.” Youngjae murmured as he arranged Junhong's ebony hair, and the boy lifted his gaze to watch his friend in the mirror.

 

“I'm nervous.” He replied.

 

“Daehyun once told me that Yongguk said the same thing on his coronation day.” Youngjae hummed with a smile and took hold of a long golden pin, its top forming the shape of a mare whose eyes shone with embedded garnets as she tossed her head with pride. Gently, the northerner tucked the pin into the binds of Junhong's hair and smoothed down to flatten the strands, “There.” He said, voice warm with pride, “You're ready to be crowned a Prince.”

 

Their walk through the palace was silent, and the guards and servants they passed all bowed with deep respect. Along the way, Daehyun fell into step beside them, and soon Jonghwan followed too as they reached the doors out towards where posts had been erected across the square with strings of lanterns and ribbons hanging between them in preparation for the festivities that were to follow into the night. They swayed in the breeze, reminding Junhong of the way strings of seaweed would shift in the tides in long and slow movements, back and forth and back again in a limitless rhythm. Tents, too, had been built up, with carpeted floors and pillowed seats around low rising tables, and at the base of the palace steps a bonfire would be lit as sundown approached.

 

The temple stood before them, tall and grand, and Junhong took in a deep breath. For a moment, he looked behind him, back to the grand door of Huingol's great palace and beyond into its warm and welcoming halls. He remembered that day a long year before when he had been dragged bound and tired through those doors for the first time. Young and afraid, overwhelmed beyond belief.

 

“Junhong-ah.” Yongguk's voice came, and Junhong turned back. The King stood dressed in indigo blue by the door of the temple, with Himchan and Jongup close by his side. His arm was stretched out before him with his hand open, palm up towards the sky, “Are you ready?”

 

The breeze was picking up again, and to Junhong it smelled cold and fresh, of the mountain snow and green grass beyond the wall. He stepped forward and took hold of Yongguk's hand, it was warm and familiar.

 

“I'm ready.”

 

*

 

That night they feasted with the people. The Horse King sat at the head of the royal table, with his Golden Prince pressed close to his side, and music and laughter filled the city. They were surrounded by all, servants and lords, generals and cooks seated side by side and feasting on the valley's greatest delicacies together and equal in their revelry. Drink overflowed from Junhong's golden goblet as he turned his head and watched those around him as they swelled with joy. Hwayah was beside the Princess Yejin, who held a thriving Yongnam secure in her lap, while Charu watched over them with love in his gaze. Beside Yongguk was Himchan, as always, Jongup pressed close against him and their faces were spread wide in splitting grins. Junhong did not think he had ever heard Jongup laugh as he did that night, his eyes closed tight and his hand blindly and subconsciously reaching out to touch Himchan as the Lady Eunhye spoke hilarious stories into his ear. Jongin and Jonghwan flanked their proud and kind mother, who could not stop herself from beaming to her eldest son who had returned home to her once again, and beyond them was Daehyun and Youngjae warmly conversing with the kind Northern Lord whose court was where Youngjae had grown from boy to man, and with whose blessing he had been passed on to Huingol. To Junhong's right sat Junseo, with another place empty beside him in silent respect and memory of Sungwon, who they wished could be there to celebrate with them.

 

Voices rose as drink diminished, and as the night became darker, Junhong moved in closer beside his King until his eyes drooped with exhaustion and his body grew heavy.

 

“Let me take you to bed, my love.” Yongguk murmured into his ear as he brushed hair back from across Junhong's forehead, and he nodded.

 

They were cheered as they made their way from the lantern illuminated tents, and as guards came forward with offers of escorting them, the lovers waved them off. The threat was over, their fear was gone and instead they ran through the empty halls with hands held tight and laughter echoing around them. By the time they made it back into their bedchamber, the celebrations outside were nothing more than the faintest hum on the wind, easily forgotten as nimble fingers worked on the sash around Junhong's waist and layers of silk began to fall down to pool at his feet.

 

Yongguk was warm behind him, lips brushing over his earlobe, his nape, the corner of his jaw and sending shivers down his spine. He lifted the golden crown from Junhong's head, and plucked the pin that fastened his hair in place so that it tumbled back down to brush against his shoulders.

 

“Junseo told me he is riding out tomorrow.” The King voiced. He was undressing himself by then, tossing his robes aside and moving back to sit against the head of their bed. His naked skin looked like molten gold, and for a moment Junhong could only stare.

 

“I know.” The Golden Prince replied. Finally, he slipped his fingers under his silk undergarments and pulled them from his body to leave himself bare, “He'll come back again. I know he will.”

 

Yongguk opened his arms, and Junhong climbed up and onto the bed to settle himself sitting astride his lap, their faces inches apart. Warm hands slid up his arms to his shoulders then wrapped around him tight and Junhong didn't even blink at the touches to his scar, nor did he shiver as the autumn air filtered through the open window. Instead he lifted both hands to gently take hold of Yongguk's face and bring their foreheads together.

 

“I love you.” He said, and Yongguk tightened his hold, brought him in closer and closer until not an inch of air was between them.

 

He was grinning, “I love you, too.”

 

When he was a child, Junhong believed the word home meant the smell of the ocean, the feeling of sun on his skin and sand between his toes but as he touched Yongguk, he was reminded that home isn't the sea, or the sky. It's the sound of his friends laughing, the way his brother's eyes crinkle when he smiles, the warmth of arms around him and the taste of Yongguk's tongue when they kiss.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here is where we finally say farewell to Huingol for good. This has been such a long journey, and although I have to admit I am relieved, I am also incredibly sad that it is over. I'm sorry to eveyrone I whinged to, and thank you to every single person who read any part of this long series. I want to give a really special thank you to some of my amazing friends, Ro, Nana and Yoot for being my hype women, all the people who faithfully commented on every chapter and didn't hate me when I appeared to fall off the face of the earth and disappear for weeks on end, and of course my ladies Laura and Rai who I could never write a fic without.
> 
> I love every single person who read this, and I can't thank you enough. 
> 
> For anyone who would like a complete character list from this series go [here](http://chngminxo.tumblr.com/post/162165611434/tales-from-huingol-character-index). You can also find me on my [twitter](http://twitter.com/yonggukspelvis) and [tumblr.](http://chngminxo.tumblr.com)
> 
> I also created artworks for this series: [Tales From Huingol](https://imgur.com/a/0UyYK) | [Clay Horses](https://imgur.com/a/oIHO6) | [Valley of the Horse King](https://imgur.com/a/Cl87y) | [A Cavalry of Stone](https://imgur.com/a/LIzGb)


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